


A Pirate's Life for Me

by Scheherezade06



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/M, Lieutenant Killian Jones, Pirate Emma Swan, Revenge, Romance, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 16:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2032263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scheherezade06/pseuds/Scheherezade06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not your average Lieutenant Duckling fic! After a chance encounter in an alley, Lieutenant Killian Jones and Pirate Captain Swan decide to join forces to take down the nefarious Pirate Lord, Blackbeard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

—KPOV—

Lieutenant Killian Jones told himself he’d noticed her because of her situation and not because of the sway of her hips in her tight leather pants, the curve of her legs caused by high-heeled boots, the arch of her back, the gold of her wild mane of hair all in curls and braids, her flashing green eyes rimmed in kohl, the deep V created by her half-laced blouse, the delicately embroidered cincher around her waist, or the dark crimson paint on her nails, or—no, he’d definitely noticed her because two men were following her into an alley.

Killian pursued at once, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

A cloud crossed the moon as Killian stepped into the mouth of the alley, casting it into darkness that someone was using to their advantage.  Shadows moved and collided with one another.

Killian heard the silken sound of a blade being freed from its sheath, and then someone inhaled sharply.  One of the men grunted, and then a fish crunched into flesh, making a meaty sound.  Straining his ear, Killian heard scuffling, another grunt, and then the loud slap of someone slammed into the wall.

Killian shifted his weight, desperate to help, but unwilling to rush in blind.

He didn’t want to harm the lass accidentally.

But then someone started making choking, gurgling sounds, and Killian couldn’t wait any longer.

He drew his sword, angling it as he did so the blade scraped along the metal edge of the scabbard, making the cutlass ring as it slid free.

“Stop in the name of the king,” he called out, his boots crunching on the stones as he strode forward.

“Why would I do that,” came an amused feminine voice that was just slightly breathless, “when I’m winning?”

The clouds parted, and moonlight streamed down, illuminating the alley.

Directly in front of Killian, the skinnier thug lay in a crumpled heap, one arm splayed out in an unnatural angle.

Deeper in the alley, the blonde woman straddled the heavier of the two men, her pleasantly curved posterior slightly raised and pointed toward Killian as she leaned forward, one arm pressed across the man’s neck.  She glanced at Killian over her shoulder as she methodically cut off the burly ruffian’s airway.

The thug’s feet drummed uselessly on the cobblestones.  He jerked and grunted, clearly wanted to fight, but the tip of the woman’s dagger was pressed tight to his closed eye.  Every time he struggled, she pressed a little harder.

Killian watched with his mouth hanging open as the big man’s feet slowed and then stopped moving.

The blonde woman held the thug down for a handful more heartbeats before drawing back.  She rolled up into a crouch over him and gave him a firm shake, making sure he wasn’t faking.

Killian closed his mouth and nervously licked his lips.  The stunning woman before him had neutralized two opponents in a matter of moments.  He was impressed.

“Come to arrest me, officer?” the blonde said, rising gracefully to her feet and tossing her hair back as she turned to face Killian.  “I can assure you these two deserved their trouncing.”

“I—I came to offer my assistance,” Killian stammered as the woman slunk toward him, all rolling hips and black-rimmed eyes.

“And collect the reward?” she said with a hint of a pout as she drew near.

Killian still had his sword out, he realized.  He sheathed it at once, nicking his thumb in his haste.

When he looked up, she was very close—too close.  She was within the span of his arm, looking up at him through thick lashes.

“Reward?” he parroted, confused.

Her eyes narrowed fractionally.  She drew her face back an inch.

“Hmm,” she said.  “I almost believe you don’t know what I’m talking about, but I can’t take a chance that I’m wrong about you.”

“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing.  He cocked his head to the side.

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and dragged him off balance, pulling his chest flush with hers.

He let out a surprised huff of breath and then swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes on his lips and her mouth a hairsbreadth from his.

Killian had just enough time to crumple his brow in confusion as her unprompted apology before she thrust her knee up into his groin, making him grunt in pain.  

She let go of him and he staggered back a step, looking at her in surprise and shock.

“I risked my safety to help you,” he gasped, his voice edged with indignation, “why do this to me now?”

“I just need a head start, love,” she said with an almost apologetic smile as she backed away.

She spun on her heel and sprinted off into the night.

.

—EPOV—

Emma pulled her hood forward, tugging her shawl tight around her shoulders to conceal her hair as she watched the figures moving on the deck of the  _Jewel of the Realm_.

The pretty boy in the navy uniform would certainly report seeing her.

_Assault on a navy officer_ would be added to her list of crimes, the reward for her capture would go up, and there would be one fewer port in which she could enjoy a drink in peace.  Anton wouldn’t let her stay in his tavern if she made trouble in town.  Their deal balanced tenuously on the fact that she didn’t cause trouble in town.  Everything would be spoiled by one damnably handsome lieutenant.

Emma made him for an officer even before she’d seen his uniform.  In the light of day, she could read his rank in the shape of his hat and the colors on his collar.  The captain of the  _Jewel_  was clearly related to the pretty lieutenant—his older brother by Emma’s guess.

Smiling at his brother with an expression of embarrassment, the younger man left the ship, heading into town.

Emma sighed in frustration and she followed the blue-eyed man.

The would-be hero had a nice bottom.  Emma half-wished she could take the time to appreciate it properly, but each step he took wiggled his lovely buttocks closer to the constable’s office, and that soured him to her.

When he went inside the office, Emma crossed her arms and leaned against a wall across the street.  She tapped her foot impatiently and scowled at the world.

Emma loathed each day her ship was in dry-dock. Being stuck on land was like missing a hand. If she’d had the option, the  _Yellow Beetle_  would have sailed less than an hour after her encounter with the black-haired troublemaker.

But that wasn’t an option.

Not for two more days.

Emma growled in frustration as she waited for a pretty man to make her life more difficult.

They did seem to be good at that.

.

—KPOV—

Killian entered the constable’s office with every intention of reporting the previous night’s incident.

But then he saw the wanted poster with a passable likeness of the beautiful blonde woman.  She stared at him coolly, all done in sepia.  The artist had clearly seen her in person, he’d captured her chin and the curve of her lip perfectly.   

Killian stared at the portrait for longer than was strictly necessary.  Then he dragged his eyes lower to see why she was a fugitive.

She was called “Captain Swan,” and her crimes included piracy, theft, and willful destruction of property.

“Something to report?” said the clerk, stepping forward to squint up at Killian.

“Hm? I—No,” Killian stammered.

The clerk cocked an eyebrow at him.

“A cautious sailor needs know the threats that await him on the sea,” Killian quipped, pleased with his own quick recovery.

The clerk blinked at him.

“I’d like to know more about her crimes,” Killian said.  “In case I should happen to meet her upon the water.”

“Oh, you won’t meet  _her_ ,” the clerk said, shaking his head.  “She don’t bother ships from this kingdom.”

“No?” he asked, his eyebrows raising.

“She steals from King Midas, regular-like,” the clerk replied, “and she causes all manner of trouble for Queen Regina, but her ship has never interfered with any boat what belongs to good King David.”

“Why is that?” Killian asked, his tone open and curious.

“Who knows why pirates do anything?” the clerk said with a shrug.  “Maybe she has a code; some of the rabble think she  _protects_  our kingdom’s waters, since she never raids here.  Me, I think maybe she she just doesn’t want to get in Blackbeard’s way.”

“Blackbeard?” Killian asked.

The clerk thrust one stubby finger at a poster on another wall.

A grizzled older man stared down at Killian from the poster.  His crimes were far worse than Swan’s; he’d commited murder, rape, kidnapping, and arson in addition to piracy, theft, and destruction of property.

Killian’s bile rose.

Grimacing, he turned and left the constablatory without making any report.

In the sunlight once again, Killian tried to gather his thoughts.  

It was harder on land.  Killian did his best thinking on the gently rocking deck of a ship at sea.  With empty ocean surrounding him, it was easier to breathe—easier to analyze problems and visualize solutions.

Frowning, he put his arms behind his back and clasped his fingers around his wrist.  He put his back to the sea and strode through the bustling town, his thoughts jangling in his head like the harnesses on the carriages that rumbled past him.

.

—EPOV—

When he exited the constable’s office, the pretty lieutenant was frowning thoughtfully.

Emma smiled at that.

Apparently, he hadn’t liked what he’d learned within.  That was good.  If he’d just given a statement, he wouldn’t have left the station looking as though he’d just found out his favorite aunt was really his sister.

Emma shadowed him as he walked, keeping a fair bit back.  He wasn’t hard to miss in his ridiculous hat.

After about a quarter hour, he straightened and looked over his shoulder, as if someone had called his name.

Emma made herself busy as a nearby street vendor’s stand, picking up a painted silk fan and opening it to admire the artist’s work.  When she looked up again, she thought he caught her gaze, but he made no obvious indication he’d recognized her.  His eyes slid away from her and he turned his back to her once again.

Emma continued to follow him as he wandered aimlessly away from the market and out toward the thinner edge of town.  Where barns and grain houses were more common than shops.

He looked around briefly, still not catching Emma in his line of sight before he ducked behind a silo.  His hand hovered over the buttons of his pants, and Emma assumed he was looking for a quiet place to take a piss.

It seemed like an excellent time to confront him about why he hadn’t reported her to the constable.

.

—KPOV—

The pirate was following him.

Killian didn’t know why she would do so, but he was certain.  He’d caught glimpses of her now and again, always far enough to be coincidence, always doing something innocuous.  But always there.

He thought he’d accidentally let her know he’d spotted her in the market.  He’d tried not to stare, but the way she’d lifted, tapped, and then flicked open the fan—like a noble—had surprised him.

Their eyes had met for an electric fraction of a second before he’d pretended not to see her, scanning the rest of the uninteresting crowd before wandering off, refusing to check for her, hoping she’d stay with him until he could confront her.

When he made it to the edge of town, he gave a quick look around.  Seeing her in his periphery, he pretended to be looking for someplace to quietly relieve himself.

He stepped behind the silo and then spun, putting his weight on the balls of his feet, ready to spring if she took the bait.

.

—EPOV—

Emma crept toward the silo, carefully placing her feet to make no sound.  She grinned when she arrived and didn’t hear the sound of liquid being poured into the sand.

“It’s a passable ambush,” she said amiably, “for an amateur.”

She heard his intake of breath, and they both took a step around the silo at the same time, nearly bumping into one another.

.

—KPOV—

Killian hopped back reflexively.  Then he took a few more steps for good measure, drawing her out of sight of the town.  She followed easily.  She looked amused.

“Well, hello again,” Swan said, her eyes dragging lazily over him from hat to boots and back again.

Killian swallowed uncomfortably.  Her roving eyes made him feel like a side of mutton.  He gave himself a shake and reminded himself why he’d led her away from town.

 “Why do you protect the waters of this kingdom?” he demanded, setting his mouth into a hard line.

“Now, who said I do that, love?” she drawled, sauntering closer.

“Keep your distance,” Killian said, retreating farther behind the silo..

“Afraid of a repeat performance, Lieutenant?” she said with a seductive little pout.  “I do hope there wasn’t any permanent damage.  Tell me, is everything still  _intact_?”

Killian refused to be dissuaded by her predatory smile.

“Why do you protect the waters of this kingdom?” Killian repeated, trying to fight the way her words and her nearness affected him.

“Well, someone has to,” she said with a taunting smile.

Killian frowned at the jab.

“You don’t feel the navy sufficient to the task?” Killian said in a clipped, irritated voice.

“Oh, I’m certain  ~~that~~ some sailors are quite capable,” she purred, “but perhaps they’re simply unwilling to get their hands dirty.”

Killian swallowed again.  This Swan was damnably distracting.

“You only steal from the rich king and the evil queen,” he said, “why?”

“I do believe you’ve answered your own question, love,” she said.

She lifted her hand suddenly, and Killian half-drew his sword, but she just brought her fingers closer to her chest and examined her nails as if bored.

“Don’t draw your sword unless you intend to use it,” she purred, her eyes flicking to his as she laced the familiar words with innuendo. His brother had spoken the same words to him, as had his swordmaster.

Neither of them said it quite like she did.

Killian let go of the hilt and his sword slid back into its sheath with an audible  _shhhh-unk_.  

“Much better,” Swan said, giving him a little smile before reverting to her seductive pout.  “But it does seem  ~~that~~ you have me at a disadvantage.”

“What?” he said before he could stop himself.

“I do believe you’ve discovered my name, Lieutenant,” she said, her eyes boring into his, “but I’ve yet to learn yours.”

She took another step toward him, and Killian’s back bumped into the silo.

“K-Killian,” he said.  He cleared his throat and dug deep for composure.  He straightened his shoulders, coming to attention.  “Killian Jones, Lieutenant on the  _Jewel of the Realm_.”

“Pleased to meet you, Killian Jones,” the pirate said, offering her hand to him.

He took it and gave it a quick shake before impulsively dipping his head and drawing her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles.  She might be a pirate, but she was still a lady.

She arched an eyebrow at his action.

“Captain Swan,” he intoned, trying to give back as good as he got as he looked up at her over their entwined hands.  “The pleasure is mine.”

.

—EPOV—

The Lieutenant— _Killian_ —‘s sudden show of bravado amused Emma immensely.  She needed a partner who could hold his own.  That was part of why she was pushing so hard.  She needed to know if he could roll with the punches or if he would buckle under the pressure.  So far, he had proven himself equal to the task.

“So, why have you been following me, Miss Swan?”

“ _Captain_ ,” she corrected reflexively.  She measured him for a moment before speaking.  Her reasons for following him had changed when he’d left the constabulary.  She wasn’t sure how she wanted to answer.  “I was curious to learn why you haven’t reported what happened last night.”

“Who says I didn’t?” he said carefully, arching an eyebrow.

“I do,” she said with a confident grin.  “You didn’t.”

She leveled him with a challenging stare.  She didn’t know for certain, but she would be surprised if she was wrong.  

The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

“I didn’t,” he confirmed, his voice taking on an almost gentle quality as he formed the words. He released her hand and inclining his head to her.

An officer and a gentleman.

Emma decided to push again.

“And why is that?” she asked, sticking her tongue between her teeth.  “Afraid to report you were struck by a girl?”

He laughed at that—a genuine, full-chested laugh that warmed Emma to her great surprise.

“No,” he said with a lopsided smile, “not at all.”

“And you aren’t trying to arrest me now,” Emma said, not really a question.  She looked at his lips, wondering suddenly what it would be like to press him against the silo and kiss him hard.

“No, I’m not,” he said in a low, husky voice.  It seemed to Emma that he wasn’t immune to her charms afterall.

“Why is that?” she asked with honest curiosity, her brow wrinkling slightly.  

She drew back a little to see him clearly and concentrate on his words—to test them for truth.

“It seems to me that you and I want the same thing,” he mused, his blue eyes clear and open as they darted between hers, “though we’ve chosen very different paths.”

Emma felt no dishonesty in his words.

“Perhaps,” she said in a light voice, chewing on the implications of his truthfulness.  She licked her lips and let her eyes dart to his mouth again.  “What if that’s so?”

“Then we may not be enemies at all,” he said with a hint of surprise in his voice.

He rolled his shoulder in a little half shrug and then frowned, as if he couldn’t believe he was saying such things to a pirate.

“Perhaps we’re not,” she said with a little smirk.

“So, maybe,” he said, his voice lowering and taking on a confident strength, “we could stop acting like enemies and do the job we both want to do.”

“Which is what?” she pressed, determined to not be the one to bring it up.

“Blackbeard,” he said, his lips twisting with distaste at the name.

Emma felt a surge of relief, but she downplayed her reaction.

“Aye? What of him?” she said, feigning boredom.

“We’ve been unable to stop him from raiding the coastal villages,” he said, eyeing her, “and so have you.”

“Are you suggesting I work with the royal navy to defeat a fellow pirate?” Emma said, feigning innocence.

“Perhaps I am,” he said, turning her own hedging against her.

Give and take.

“Why should I trust you?” she said, searching his eyes.

“Why should I trust you?” he shot back.

Emma grinned.

“Fair enough,” Emma said, raising her hands in mock-surrender.  “Show of faith?”

Killian raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.  His expression was wary.

“Dinner, tonight,” she said, “at the  _Tall Lassie_.  Two hours after sundown.  You don’t bring the guards, I don’t bring the crew, we pretend to be civilized for an evening.  How does that sound?”

 .

—EPOV—

When Captain Swan entered the tavern, she found royal Lieutenant Killian Jones already seated to dinner. He was eyeing the clientele warily from behind his mug, clearly uncomfortable in the seedy establishment.

Honestly, she was surprised she’d convinced him to meet her at all, but he was proving to be a man of his word.

As she crossed the room to join him, a dark-haired wench approached the lieutenant, putting her hand on his shoulder as she leaned forward to thrust her ample bosom in his face. His eyes flicked down automatically, but rose to her face quickly, spots of color appearing on his cheeks.

The wench seemed to enjoy that, so she unceremoniously plopped herself into Killian’s lap, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing herself to his chest.

One of Killian’s arms shot out to encircle the girl, and it made Emma frown. She knew deep down, that it had been a reflex to keep the woman from falling, but she still didn’t like it.

And why hadn’t he gotten rid of her, yet?

Emma crossed the taverns in long, sure strides, drawing her dagger as she did so.

She grabbed a fistful of the woman’s thick hair and yanked her head back sharply, pressing the point of her dagger to the woman’s pale, creamy throat.

"I believe you’re in my seat, love," Emma purred into the woman’s ear as she ran the dagger back and forth across her skin, raising a fine, pink line.

"B-b-beggin’ your pardon, ma’am. I-I didn’t know," the interloper stammered, flinching and disentangling herself as much as she could while restrained.

"Make sure it doesn’t happen again," Emma said, releasing the woman roughly.

The wench stumbled away from the table with a murmured “yes’m.”

Emma didn’t watch her go. Her eyes were intent on Killian.

"I hardly think scaring the girl was necessa—" he began.

Emma cut him off by throwing one leg over him and sitting on his lap, facing him. She grabbed his lapels and crashed her mouth to his greedily.

"C-captain Swan!" Killian protested, pulling back from the pirate’s plundering mouth.

Emma kept a hold of his lapels, staring into his wide blue eyes with hooded green ones. She slowly licked her lips before releasing him and climbing out of his lap and taking the seat adjacent to him.

The flustered lieutenant self-consciously straightened out his coat and shifted in his seat, his face red to his ears.

"Do you need a minute to… gather your thoughts?" Emma drawled, her eyes raking over Killian, lingering on his lap, where he had his hands folded over crossed legs.

"Miss Swan—"

“ _Captain_ ,” she corrected.

“ _Captain_  Swan,” Killian started again, “when you invited me here, I was under the impression that you wished to discuss the situation with Blackbeard, not… not… uh… I was not…”

"That is why I invited you here, Lieutenant," Emma said. "But what’s the harm in mixing a little pleasure with our business?"

Killian opened him mouth and closed it abruptly. He swallowed hard.

"If we—" he squeaked. He cleared his throat. "If we could discuss the pirate lord..?"

"Of course," Emma said, inclining her head with a small smirk. She raised her hand, signaling the barkeep.

A barmaid immediately came to the table with a bottle of rum and two small glasses.

"Leave the bottle, lass," Emma said, giving the barmaid a wink and flipping her a coin to cover the drinks. "And bring us something to eat."

"Yes, ma’am," the girl replied, dipping into an awkward curtsey.

Emma poured two fingers of rum into each of the cups.

"So," she said, holding a glass up for Killian to take, "tell me more about how the kingdom needs  _my_  help.”

"I don’t drink rum," Killian said, crinkling his nose at the offered beverage.

"You do tonight, darling," Emma said with a grin. "If you want my help, then tonight you drink rum."

“I’d rather keep my wits about me,” Killian protested.

Emma drew back the glass and drank half of it, leaving a single shot of liquor.  

She offered it to Killian.

“There,” she said, “even a virgin princess could handle that much rum.”

Killian scowled, snatching the glass up and throwing back the liquid in one swallow.

He sputtered and coughed, his eyes wide as he tried to regain his composure.

“That wasn’t so bad,” Emma teased, “was it?”

“Bloody awful,” he muttered.  “Pardon my language.”

Killian took a drink from his beer to clear the taste of rum from his mouth.

“We’re all sailors here,” Emma said with a grin.  “I assure you I’ve heard worse.”

“Other men’s bad form does not forgive mine,” he muttered seriously, setting down his beer and frowning as he scanned the room again.

Emma raised an eyebrow.  This Killian Jones seemed to be full of surprises.  She studied him while he watched the room, and her eyes kept landing on his lips.  He kept licking and biting them, which did not help Emma’s train of thought.   

The barmaid wandered over then with a tray.  She angled herself carefully before bending over, facing Emma instead of Killian.  Good girl, Emma thought.  She’d clearly seen the earlier display.

The lass set two bowls of thick fish soup and a large chunk of dark bread on the table.  

Emma and Killian tucked in, eyeing each other occasionally.

When the meal was almost finished, Emma broke the silence.

She sopped up the greasy residue of her soup with a chunk of bread and met Killian’s eyes.

“I’d like to know what intelligence your lot has gathered on… our mutual quarry,” she said carefully.  

Killian frowned, his eyebrows drawing together.

“You wish me to divulge classified information,” he said, his tone a little gruff.

“Yes,” she said, maintaining eye contact.

He exhaled through his nose.

“Why not just steal the information?” he said icily, his lips twisting into a tight grimace.  His tone implied he was unhappy with the idea.

“Oh, I could get the records that way,” she purred, giving him a cocky little grin.

“But you won’t steal from your own kingdom?” he asked, almost an accusation.

Emma rocked back as if struck.  Panic rose in her eyes before she shook her head and reverted to her confident mask.

Killian’s eyebrow quirked up at her reaction.

“My reputation in this kingdom suits my purposes,” she said with a shrug.  “I like being able to have a drink like this—” She gestured between them. “—without having to go all the way to Agrabah to do it.”

He studied her for a moment, but then the corner of his mouth lifted as well.

“And if I do this,” he said after a moment, “what are we then?  Partners?”

Emma gave a throaty little laugh.

“I still outrank you, Lieutenant,” she said, her eyes dancing merrily.

“Oh, aye?” he replied, he was still wary, but his expression was more open.  Maybe it was the alcohol.  “Am I to take orders from you, then, Captain Swan?”

“When the situation calls for it,” she drawled, letting her eyes trail over him again.  “How long are you in port?”

His lips parted and his tongue darted out to moisten them as he stared at her mouth.

Slowly, his eyes rose to meet hers.

“My br—My captain has gone to the castle for orders from the king,” Killian said.  

“When did he leave?” Emma asked.

“This morning,” he replied.

“Good, then he’ll be gone for at least three days,” Emma said, clapping her hands and then rubbing them together.

Killian raised an eyebrow.

“And I am to spend those days minding the ship,” he said.

“If your crew needs constant supervision, love, then you need to find a better crew,” Emma quipped.

Killian snorted in amusement.


	2. Chapter 2

Killian nervously followed Swan up the gangplank to the sleek little ship.  

The Yellow Beetle was a compact ship, smaller than the Jewel, and had been built from a pale blonde wood, and the stain was clearly designed to enhance the namesake color.  White sails fluttered above the deck, but Killian could see hints of black and red fabric pinned in the rigging, cleverly hidden until the crew wished to make their intentions known.  

Scuffed tracks stretched between strategically placed crates and the railing.  Killian guessed the ships cannons hid below the unassuming boxes.

Several figures stood on the deck, and they all straightened a little when Swan mounted the gangplank.

“Look sharp, boys!” called a pretty brunette woman.  “Captain on deck!”

The brunette walked toward Killian and Swan with a swaying, sinuous walk that made her look as though the ocean surged up through her bones.  The woman didn’t have sea legs, she had seahips.  Her long hair cascaded around her face in curls and braids, free enough to be feminine, but restrained enough to stay out of her way.  She was dressed similarly to Swan, with tight leather breeches and tall boots.  She wore a scarlet elbow-length cloak over her other clothes, which surprised Killian.  Cloaks and ships generally made a poor match.  The edge of her cloak was ragged and stained, as though it had been longer before.

The woman stopped in front to Swan, giving her a polite nod.

“The Beetle’s right as rain, Captain,” the woman said to Swan with a mix of easy familiarity and respect.

“Thank you, Ruby,” Swan said.  “This is—”

“Lieutenant Jones,” Killian said, stepping forward and offering the lady his hand.

Ruby took it and eyed Killian from bottom to top as he bowed over her hand.

“Yum,” Ruby said under her breath.  Then louder: “Plan on sharing, cap?”

She licked her lips, her eyes still on Killian.

Killian’s cheeks went pink.

“Ruby’s my first mate,” Swan continued in a matter-of-fact tone without acknowledging Ruby’s comment.  “Most of the crew call her Red or the Wolf.  Her lover, Viktor, is the man glaring at you from the railing.  Most of the crew call him Whale.  He’s our medic.  He’s not a fighter, but fiercely loyal to Ruby and known to have a jealous disposition.”

Ruby rolled her eyes and huffed out a sigh of breath before retreating toward the sour-looking blonde man with ice-blue eyes.  She pulled his face toward hers, kissing him almost obscenely and wrapping her arms around his neck.  Whale wore a long dark grey coat that buttoned across his shoulder in a style Killian had never seen before.  The coat was immaculate, but clearly well-worn.  This Whale was a man on discipline.    

Swan took a couple steps along the deck, and Killian followed warily.

“The well-dressed man at the helm is Jefferson, our brilliant navigator,” Swan said.  “Quite skilled in haberdashery, Jefferson is.  The crew have taken to calling him Hatter.”

Hearing his name, the green-eyed man doffed his hat in an elaborate flip and caught it as he bowed.  He wore an intricately embroidered jacket over a silk vest and shirt, with a blood-colored cravat around his neck.  When he straightened, he winked disconcertingly at Killian.

Killian opened his mouth to say something, but a booming voice cut him off.

“What’s this stuffed-shirt doing on our boat?”  

Killian and Swan both turned to see a short, stocky man with a sunburnt bald head.  He held his arms akimbo and was glaring at the lieutenant.

“And this is Leroy, my boatswain,” Swan said.  “Leroy, this is Lieutenant Jones.  He’ll be joining us for a jaunt.”

Leroy eyed Killian unhappily.

“And why is that?” Leroy growled.

“Why?” Swan said in a voice like steel dipped in honey.  “Because I say so.”

Leroy did a double-take, his eyes going wide and then darting up to meet Swan’s.

“Yes, ma—I mean, captain,” Leroy stammered.  “Aye, cap’n.”

Leroy dipped his head in her direction before quickly finding something to do on the other end of the ship.

“He seems the grumpy sort,” Killian said.

“I think the best boatswains are,” Swan replied lightly, smirking at Killian.

“And who is this?” Killian said quietly, nodding his head toward the brown-eyed boy who had been watching Swan and Killian from behind some boxes.

“Ah,” Emma said with a small smile.  “Henry!  Come over here, kid.”

The boy’s eyes widened, and then he tugged on his jacket to straighten it and walked over to stand in front of Swan.

“Ma’am,” he said courteously, bowing his head.

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” Swan said softly.  She lifted the boy’s chin with gentle fingers.

“Yes, ma’am,” Henry said immediately.

Killian couldn’t help but smile.

“Henry, this is Killian,” the pirate captain said as if talking to her own child.  “He’s a lieutenant in the king’s navy.”

Henry’s gaze almost reluctantly left Emma’s face and traveled over to Killian’s.

“Why is he on a pirate ship, then?” Henry said, blinking at the blue-eyed man.

“He’s going to help us find the man who killed your father,” Swan said.


	3. Chapter 3

“I strongly object!” Killian said in a less-than-dignified tone of voice.  He gripped the back of one of the chairs at the little table in the captain’s quarters of the  _Yellow Beetle_.  On the other side of the table, Swan and the wolf-girl were eyeing him with amusement (in the case of both) and mild annoyance (in the case of the former).  The cabin boy, Henry, watched from the side, his eyes wide and a small grin on his face.

“If you each go a different direction ‘round, he can’t get away,” Henry said helpfully.

Killian shot him a look of betrayal.

“We know, kid,” Swan said with a grin.

“This way’s more fun,” Ruby purred.

“You have a strange definition of the word,” Killian said gruffly.

Ruby laughed at that, filling the room with her warm, melodic voice.  She stalked around the edge of the table, but Killian kept his distance from her.

“We can’t take you to Tortuga in your uniform,” Swan said evenly.

“That part I comprehend,” Killian said, “but how does it necessitate the pair of you dressing me?  What about that Hatter fellow?  Wouldn’t he be more suited to the task?”

Killian met Swan’s eyes, pleading silently for her to see reason.

“He has a point,” Henry said from the side.

Swan’s eyes darted to the boy and lingered there.

“True enough,” she said with a touch of amused resignation, making Killian sigh with relief.  “Ruby, go relieve Jefferson at the helm and send him in here.”

“But—” Ruby started to protest.

Swan arched an eyebrow at her, making her drop her eyes and pout sullenly.

“Yes, captain,” Ruby said in a deflated tone.

She shot Henry a dirty look and raked her eyes over Killian’s form once more before leaving the cabin.

“Can I have his hat?” Henry asked after a moment.

Swan laughed at that, and the sound was beautiful and carefree as it bubbled across the room to Killian, making him feel warm.

“No, kid,” Swan said, approaching the boy to ruffle his hair.  “We’re not stealing his clothes.  He’ll need them again when we get back.”

“Oh,” Henry said with a small pout.

Killian felt a tug at his heartstrings looking at the boy.

“Perhaps you could keep it safe for me in the meantime?” Killian said, his voice gentle.  

He smiled at the lad.

Henry looked at him appraisingly.

“Can I wear it?” the boy asked warily.

Killian chuckled.

“Aye, but just in the cabin?” Killian offered.  “It seems a bit big your you yet, and I’d hate for the wind to take it off your head and throw it to the sea.”

Henry nodded thoughtfully.

“Okay,” he said with a grin.  He hopped down from his perch on the corner of the captain’s bunk and picked Killian’s hat up off the table.  When he set it on his head, it fell down over his eyes.  He bent his neck back to look up and grinned widely at Killian.

Killian couldn’t help but smile back.  He saw Swan watching the boy with curved lips but tight eyes.  There was definitely a story there.  Killian wondered what the history was between the woman and the child.  He wondered again if the lad could be hers, but she seemed too young.

“It suits you,” Swan said softly, her eyes still on the boy.

Henry grinned at that, too, not catching the wistful timbre in the woman’s voice.  If the lad wasn’t her son, he was still her ward, and it was clear that he occupied a spot in her heart.

Jefferson arrived then, sweeping into the cabin with all the majesty and self-importance of a peacock.

“Captain,” he intoned, popping his hat off again to bow towards Swan.  He turned toward Killian in a clipped, precise motion and tilted his head.  “Lieutenant.”

He straightened up and looked at the cabin boy, raising an eyebrow.  In the cabin, it was easier to see the kohl that rimmed the navigator’s eyes.

“Jefferson,” Swan said, “can you assist in making our guest fit to join us in Tortuga?”

Both of Jefferson’s eyebrows crept up his forehead as he looked Killian over.

“Seems a tall order,” he murmured as he surveyed the naval officer.  “But I think I have some suitable odds and ends.”

“Good,” Swan said.  She was looking at Killian in a way that made his skin feel warm.

Killian fidgeted.

“Do his eyes, too,” Swan said huskily, licking her lips.

Jefferson’s gaze traveled from captain to lieutenant and back again, a little smirk playing over his lips.

“As you say,” Jefferson said, dipping his head again.

He clapped his hand on Killian’s should.

“Come,” he said with an amused tone.  “let’s see you dressed for the ball, princess.”

.

After Jefferson had worked his magic, Killian scarcely recognized himself.  His hair had been worked through with some kind of grease, making it stand up in a rather fascinating way.  Jefferson had taken his little soot stick to Killian’s eyes, cursing at him when he couldn’t keep still.  The resulting line of kohl made the blue of Killian’s eyes stand out almost shockingly.  The navigator had also rubbed some dark powder into Killian’s beard, making the naturally red-tinted hair there black and striking.

The clothes were another matter entirely.

After soft cotton britches, the tight leather trousers felt constricting.  The boots were strangely shaped and clearly had been made for another man.  They pinched when Killian walked.  The black linen shirt and scarlet vest didn’t bother Killian at all, though Jefferson insisted Killian only button the bottom three fastenings of his shirt.  He felt like half his chest was on display, which was hardly good form for an officer in the king’s navy.  

But the coat…

Well, Killian could get used to wearing a coat like that.  The exquisitely crafted leather fit Killian well—surprisingly so, considering it had not been tailored for him.  He enjoyed the weight of it on his shoulders and the pull of it on his arms when he reached for something.  The skirt of the coat flared out attractively when Killian made a sharp turn, and the feel of the flapping leather around his legs was somehow affirming.  

Wearing the coat felt right.  

Looking in the mirror, Killian thrust his thumbs behind his belt buckle and threw his head and shoulders back.  He studied himself, lifting his chin and giving himself a bored, arrogant expression that he thought he wore pretty well.  Fearsome pirate, indeed.

Jefferson let out a little chuckle.

“Almost done,” the Hatter said.  “Just a few baubles, I think, to finish the look.”

Jefferson fastened a heavy chain around Killian’s neck with a pair of rather masculine charms hanging from it.  The pendants landed in the V of his open shirt.  Next came rings, weighing down Killian’s hands in an unfamiliar way.  He especially disliked the ring Jefferson slipped on his right thumb.  It squeezed his digit uncomfortably when he made a fist.

But when Jefferson came at him with an earring, Killian had to protest.

“Whoa, mate,” he said, raising his hands.  “I must draw the line at puncture wounds.”

“Relax,” Jefferson said, rolling his eyes.  “It’s a screw-back.”

The green-eyed man held up the bauble to show how it would tighten around Killian’s earlobe without requiring a piercing.  Killian reluctantly let the hatter install the thing on his right ear.  It pinched, but Killian did have to admit that it seemed to finish off his costume nicely.

He was examining himself in the mirror again when someone knocked sharply on the door to Jefferson’s small cabin.  

The door flew open before Jefferson could respond to the knock, and Captain Swan strode in, her gaze fixing on Killian at once.  Her mouth fell open, and Killian proudly read her expression of open appraisal as her eyes raked over his body.  He saw a hint of color rise in her cheeks, which made him feel rather good about himself.

“Will he do?” Jefferson said in a bored tone, but Killian saw the corner of the hatter’s mouth quirk upward.

“Oh, yes,” Swan said, stepping forward to examine Killian more closely.  She lightly gripped the edge of his coat’s collar, running the leather between her fingers.  “He will most definitely do.”


	4. Chapter 4

**—EPOV—**

It was dusk when they arrived in Tortuga.

Emma kept stealing glances at the cleverly costumed man beside her.  The transformation Jefferson had performed was nothing short of remarkable.  Emma was confident that not even members of the lieutenant’s crew would recognize him in his current ensemble.  It was almost as good as her own transformation from silks and slippers to leather and kohl.  With just a little theatricality, people saw what they were expecting, instead of what was actually there.

And Killian Jones played his part well—at least, so far.  But swagger and a cocky expression would only take him so far.  

On Emma’s left, Ruby kept up a steady stream of chatter as they made their way through the cobblestones streets that led to the large tavern.  Her words trailed off when they arrived, and the trio stopped just outside.  Ruby let out a huff of breath.  Emma knew she had no love for the man they were about to see.

“Mind your temper,” Emma said to her first mate.  Ruby frowned at her and muttered something under her breath.

Emma turned to Killian and ran her fingers along the collar of his coat again.  She licked her lips before she dragged her eyes up from his chest to his face.

“You ready?” she murmured.

His eyes flicked up to hers from where they’d been fixed on her mouth.

“Aye,” he said, his expression hardening.  “Let’s get this over with.”

Pulling open the doors let the ambiance of the pirate tavern spill out into the street.  Raucous laughter , pipe smoke, the scent of unwashed sailors and painted trollops, and one dry-heaving drunkard poured forth from  _The One-Eyed Harlot_.  Emma and her companions hopped back to let the inebriated man find his way to the cobblestones before he noisily lost the contents of his stomach onto the street.

Ruby made a low sound of disgust as they re-climbed the short stair to the door and entered the large common room.  Emma surveyed the room quickly, searching for her quarry.  To her right, Killian also surveyed the room, his knuckles going white on the hilt of his sword.  His face was a stern mask of disapproval.  

“Relax,” she hissed at him, leaning to speak directly into his ear.  

He blew a frustrated breath out his nose and then took another breath to calm himself.  The line of his shoulders softened a little.  

Emma looked around again, and she found the man she sought when a barmaid moved out of the way from where she’d been leaning over his table, delivering his supper.  Emma strode purposefully forward, ignoring the chaos and debauchery around her.  Her boots clicked, crunched, and squished as she walked, but she refused to look at the filthy floor beneath her.  

“Lester Price,” Emma said, stopping at the dimly lit table where an older, balding man with a peeling, sunburnt head was shovelling stew into his mouth.  A thin greasy stream of spilled broth dripped through his scraggly red-and-silver beard and down the front of his ill-fitting shirt.  Captain Price was easily the fattest man in the tavern, and his clothing hadn’t been crafted to contain his girth.

Lester set down his bowl and looked up at Emma, narrowing his beady green eyes.  He licked his chapped lips and eyed her lasciviously before responding.

“Swan,” he said gruffly, but not impolitely.  He clearly didn’t want to talk to her, but he wasn’t willing to be rude.  Yet.    

It was only a matter of time with Lester Price.

The retired pirate captain took a long drink from his mug of ale as he looked over the people flanking Emma.  His eyes dragged lazily over Ruby before darting to Emma’s right, where Killian stood.

“Who’sis?” Lester said, one side of his nose twitching as he frowned at the disguised lieutenant.

“My new man-at-arms,” Emma said, making Lester’s eyebrows shoot up and his eyes flick back to her.

“Oi, and wot need has the fearsome Swan got for a bodyguard, hmm?” the fat pirate said.

“He’s fair in a fight,” Emma said with a little shrug, “but I mostly keep him around because he’s so pretty.”

“S’at all?” Lester said.  He eyed Killian speculatively.  “Can’ee even use tha’ sword, then?”

Emma gave a throaty little laugh.

“Oh, he definitely knows how to use his  _sword_ ,” Emma purred.  She gave Killian a heated look, dragging her eyes down his body.  She hoped he’d be clever enough to play along.

The costumed naval officer thrust his thumbs into his belt behind the buckle and gave the fat man a contemptuous little smile.  Emma hoped that the rotund captain didn’t notice the sudden pink on Killian’s cheeks.

Lester’s eyes darted between Killian and Emma as a sickening grin formed on his face.  He focused on Emma, licking his lips again.

“So, Swan’s finally found another lover, eh?” Lester drawled with another salacious look.  “Me and the boys was starting to fink ye had cobwebs growin’ betwixt yer nethers, lass. Been a long time since—”

“My nethers are none of your concern, Lester,” Swan said in a firm voice.  She felt Killian shift beside her, clearly upset by the man’s words.  His protective nature was almost endearing, but Emma could handle herself.  “You know why I’m here.”

“Aye,” Lester said gruffly, his face contorting into a grimace.  His eyes darted around the tavern and he took another long drink from his ale.  “Y’best sit down, then.”

Lester was wedged into a chair at the head of a rectangular table, and Emma, Ruby, and Killian were standing behind the bench along one side of the rectangle. Emma nodded to Ruby before turning to Killian and indicating with her eyes where she wanted him to sit.  He complied, sitting on the edge of the bench closest to Lester.  Emma stepped over the bench, putting her hand on Killian’s shoulder as she did so.  She felt him stiffen beneath her fingers, but he kept his face neutral.  She probably should have filled him in on his role in this game, but she was having too much fun reading his reactions to her.  Settling on the bench, Emma threw her right thigh over Killian’s lap, spreading her legs and leaning back.  Killian inhaled sharply and his eyes went wide, but he also immediately put his left arm around her back, ensuring she didn’t fall off the bench.   Lester was too busy staring at Emma’s lap to notice Killian’s brief lapse in character.  Emma grabbed Killian’s left hand and pressed it firmly to her hip.  The lieutenant caught on quick, however, and his other hand landed just above her knee, his fingers curling almost possessively around her leg.  The boldness of the gesture surprised Emma, but she knew from experience how liberating it was to play the pirate after years spent being proper and demure.

On Emma’s left, Ruby hailed a tavern wench and mugs of frothy ale quickly arrived for each of them.  

“So,” Emma said after they’d made the appropriate toasts and benedictions for conquests and fallen sailors.  “You know where he is.”

Lester’s cheek twitched and his lip curled up in a grimace.

“Aye,” he whispered.  

Emma barely contained her relieved sigh at the truth in the simple word.  She’d been skeptical about Lester’s level of knowledge regarding Blackbeard.  The confirmation was affirming.  She just had to get the information out of the old, greasy lecher.

Emma took a long drink from her ale as she considered how best to approach the retired pirate captain.

Next to her, Killian set his mug of ale down, letting his hand fall back in place on Emma’s thigh.  It landed a little higher than it had been, and Emma had to force herself to focus on the fat man at the end of the table instead of the lean one pressed against her flank.  Lester had been correct when he’d mention how long it had been since Emma’s had a lover.  The heat of Killian’s hand, even through the leather of her britches, was deliciously distracting.

“Where is he?” Emma asked, fixing Lester with a stare.  She hoped the slight dip in the timbre of her voice would be attributed to her desire for revenge and not… well…

“Why should I tell ye?” Lester said in a low, gravelly voice.

“You know why I’m pursuing him,” Emma said.

“Aye,” Lester said again.

Emma waited, slowly raising an eyebrow.

“What’s it to me?” Lester drawled.  He inhaled through his nose, making a with a wet, wheezing sound before clearing his throat and spitting a fat glob of phlegm on to the floor near him.

“You spineless sack of sh—” Ruby growled, her knuckles turning white on the handle of her tankard.

“Ruby,” Emma said in gentle warning.  She turned to look at her mercurial friend, whose nostrils were flaring.  Her lips curled up into a snarl.  Emma leaned closer to the girl, stretching awkwardly in her compromising position.  Her right leg shifted higher on Killian’s lap, and his hand tightened on her thigh, holding her firmly to make sure she didn’t lose her balance.

Lester gave a dark little chuckle.

“Ye best calm yer  _bitch_  if yer wantin’ my help,” he taunted.

Emma had to grab Ruby’s wrist to stop her from pulling her dagger.  Killian shifted under her leg, and Emma knew he would have made a move, too, if she wasn’t literally on top of him.  His fingers tightened almost painfully on her thigh.

Emma turned to face Lester again, fixing him with an unamused expression.

“What do you want, Price?” Emma said as patiently as she could, her voice barely containing her anger.

“A night wif ye in my bed would sort it,” he drawled, his eyes landing on her chest as he brushed his thumb over his own lips.

Emma felt Killian shift again.  He was almost vibrating in anger next to her, and Emma had to press her leg down harder on his lap.  His hand slipped a little higher up her thigh as she moved, his fingers still digging into her flesh.

“Not going to happen,” Emma snapped, shaking her head.

She could feel the anger coming off Ruby in waves.  She knew she had to handle this just right, or the table would explode into violence.

“On yer knees, then,” Lester slurred.  “I always wanted to properly stifle yer uppity little mouth.”

Ruby actually growled, and Killian inhaled sharply, opening his mouth to speak.

Emma quickly leaned forward over Killian, both to restrain him and to get a little into Lester’s face.

“If sex is the only currency that you will barter in, Lester, I’ll find another lowlife to give my coin to,” Emma said disdainfully.  “You aren’t the only one with the information I need.”

Lester’s sneer froze on his face.  

It was only half a bluff.  Emma knew he needed the money and his bravado and lechery was mostly for show.  Since he’d retired, Lester had used up much of his wealth on food, whores, and expensive salves and potions for the maimed leg that had forced him out of a life of piracy.

Emma waited for three heartbeats before she sat up straight and turned to her companions.  Killian’s grip on her thigh loosened slightly.

“Let’s go,” she said tersely, “this moldy old has-been is just wasting our time.”

She shifted her weight, beginning to draw her leg off of Killian’s lap.  Ruby stood up beside her.

“W-wait!” Lester stammered.  

He licked his lips nervously and reached over to set his hand on Emma’s knee.  Emma stilled, but Killian didn’t.  He slapped the older man’s hand away with a growl.  Lester snatched his hand back in shock.  

“Touch her again and you’ll lose your hand,” Killian said in a low, threatening voice that made Emma’s blood heat up.  He slid his hand purposefully up the inside of Emma’s thigh and possessively pulled her leg tighter against him until the outside of her thigh was flush with his vested stomach.  The look he shot Lester was so icy, Emma thought it would freeze rum solid.

Amused and aroused, Emma leaned into Killian’s side, wrapping her arms around his neck.  Killian’s left arm tightened around her hip, and he pulled her fully into his lap.  With a surprised little gasp that she tried to cover with a titter, Emma swung her left leg over Killian’s lap, too, crossing it over her right and trapping his hand between her thighs.  He made a choked groaning sound that shot heat straight down Emma’s spine.  She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of leather and salt and him.  She hummed against his skin, loving the way it burst into goose flesh beneath her lips.

“Captain,” Ruby said, drawing Emma’s attention reluctantly away from Killian.  She shook Emma’s shoulder gently, and it sounded like she’d said the title more than once.

Emma raised her head.  The room seemed a little too bright.  Lester was staring at her with obvious lust in his eyes, and Emma could feel the flush in her cheeks.

“I’ll leave my first mate to discuss your payment, Lester,” Emma said breathlessly, idly running her fingers through Killian’s hair.  “I have an urgent matter than I must attend to.”

“Swan—” Lester began.

“You’ll deal with Ruby, or you will not have any gold from me,” Emma snapped.

“Aye,” Lester sneered, “I’ll deal wi’ the red bi—wench.”

He shot her a look of uncomfortable defeat.

“So glad you could see things our way,” Ruby jibed.  She slid over on the bench as Emma and Killian stood up, still tangled together.

Lester scowled at each of them in turn.

“Cap’n Swan,” he said, dipping his head a tiny bit in way of farewell.

“Captain Price,” Emma replied in exactly the same tone.

His eyes landed on Killian and his lip curled up again.

“An’ wot’s  _your_  name, pretty boy?” Lester growled.

“Hook,” Killian said without a moment’s hesitation.  Emma tried not to look surprised.

“Why they call ye tha’?” Lester asked, his eyebrows scrunching together.

Killian loosened his grip on Emma just enough to lean toward Lester.

“You should pray to the gods that you never find out,” he said in an even, almost warm voice.  He held his position leaning into Lester’s space until the older man flinched.  From Lester’s expression, Emma imagined that Killian might have actually winked at him.

When Killian drew back, Emma wrapped both her arms around his waist.

“Mm,” she said, “let’s get back to the  _Beetle_.”

“Aye,” Killian replied, looking at her as if no one else in the room mattered.

He was really selling the character well.

Emma licked her lips and began moving toward the door.  Killian slid his left hand down her hip, putting his hand possessively on her ass right in front of Lester’s face.  They made their way out of the tavern pawing at each other like teenaged peasants on holiday.  

When they burst out into the cool night air, Killian started to pull away, but Emma gripped him tighter.

“Not yet,” she murmured as quietly as she could.  “Price has spies everywhere.”

Killian immediately pulled her firmly against him again.

“Do we go straight to the ship?” he asked, actually nipping the shell of her ear as he whispered against her skin.

“No,” she panted.  “We need to wait a bit for Ruby.”

“Then what now?” he murmured thickly, his lips dragging along her neck.

She let out a little moan that wasn’t entirely acting.

“The alley,” she hissed, tugging his earlobe between her teeth.  “Push me up against that wall.”

He groaned, but complied, backing Emma up into the bricks of some building.  He kept an inch of space between their torsos, but ducked in to nuzzle her neck, keeping his mouth close to her ear and her own lips near his ear.  Emma snaked her arms around Killian’s neck, running her fingers up into his hair.  She forced herself to open her eyes and survey the street.  Things looked clear, so she slid her right leg up Killian side to wrap it around his hip.  He let out another delicious grunt and his hand grabbed her thigh, taking the weight of her leg as she dug her heel into his backside.

He shuffled forward a tiny bit, but was still trying to keep their bodies discretely separate.  Was he truly uninterested?  Or was he just trying to be a gentleman?  One way to find out…

Emma lifted her other leg, making Killian let out a little “oof” as he took her weight.  She wrapped both her legs around him and squeezed, drawing his body fully against hers.

And he was definitely interested.

They moaned together, their bodies rocking against one another through their layers of leather.

“Swan,” he choked, his voice breaking.  Emma could hear the tenuous note of mortification in his voice.  He’d been trying to hide his arousal.

“Hook,” she said playfully, nipping his neck as she made herself open her eyes again to scan the alley.

He chuffed at that.

“You’re a bloody siren,” he growled into her shoulder, shaking his head back and forth, scraping her lightly with his scruff.  

She let out a little laugh and rolled her hips against him, making him gasp.

His grip tightened on her ass, and he brushed his lips across the skin of her throat, kissing her for the first time under his own volition.  Emma moaned in response, a breathy “yes” ripping from her unreservedly. She tugged on his hair, lifting his face to hers so she could capture his mouth.  He reacted eagerly, his lips parting in a deep groan as she swept the tip of her tongue between them.  

She plundered his mouth, and he proved a quick study.  Within mere moments, he was giving as good as he got, sucking on Emma’s lower lip and exploring her mouth with his tongue.  He fondled her posterior with is left hand while his right rose to the side of her face, his fingers threading into her tresses almost roughly.  Emma pulled on his hair again, dragging his face down her throat.  He eagerly complied, nipping and sucking on her tender flesh, his scruffy whiskers scraping and tickling deliciously.  

Emma reluctantly opened her eyes again, scanning the alley out of necessity.  Her gaze landed on a stoic figure across the lane, standing in the shadow of the tavern, watching Emma and Killian.

“We have an audience,” Emma purred into Killian’s ear before sucking his earlobe into her mouth.  She flicked it with her tongue, making him gasp again.

“I thought that was the point?” he said breathlessly.

Emma let out a theatrical moan, watching the man in the shadows carefully.  He failed to react, so Emma decided he wasn’t just some random voyeur.  Killian, on the other hand, had reacted to her outcry.  He was rutting against her with languid movements and nibbling insatiably at her throat.

“I don’t think he’s one of Price’s men,” Emma whispered.  “He’s too… restrained.  He holds himself like… like a hunter.”

Killian made a huffing sound and his whole body tensed.

“Where?” he asked, his voice still breathless, but becoming more focused.

“South of the tavern,” she answered.

“Let me have a look at him,” Killian said.

“Mm,” Emma hummed in assent.  She shifted her legs, and Killian let them drop.  Once on her feet, Emma shoved Killian away from her, making him stumble back.

“Bloody hell,” he exclaimed.

Emma grabbed his lapels and yanked his face back to hers, maneuvering him so that his back was against the wall instead of hers as she kissed him hard.  He started to wrap his arms around her again, but she denied him, dropping instead to her knees and dragging her hands down his chest to land on the waistband of his leather pants.

Killian groaned loudly and placed his hands lightly on the back of Emma’s head.  He was breathing hard.  Emma watched him through her eyelashes as she undid his belt, and his eyes were fixed on her.  She cocked an eyebrow at him and then rolled her eyes deliberately, trying to silently remind him that he was supposed to be looking for their watcher.  Almost reluctantly, he groaned again and let his head rock back, one hand fisting in her hair.  Emma watched as his eyes panned, scanning the alley.  She knew the second he spotted the man in the shadows.  His eyes narrowed fractionally, and his whole body tensed for a moment.    

Emma wondered what the lieutenant made of their onlooker, but she realized that they didn’t have the option of communication in their current position.  And she had Killian’s waistband open in front of her, which was intensely distracting.  Her fingers were moving of their own accord to undo the laces of his straining trousers.  Emma knew that really doing what they were pretending to do would be a very bad idea, but her curiosity and desire were growing by the second.  Laces loosened, she brushed her fingers tentatively along the hard length of him, concealed only by his shirttails.  He shuddered, and his fist tightened in her hair.

“Perhaps we should take this occupation elsewhere, love,” Killian said at a medium volume.  “I’d rather not put on a show.”  

His voice was still delightfully wrecked, but there was an edge of wariness in it.  He tugged her gently upward, and Emma let him pull her to her feet.  He collected her in his arms again and kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, making Emma hum in surprise and appreciation.  His hand skated down her back, over her posterior.  He grabbed her ass, his hand surely visible to anyone watching.  

Emma gave another throaty moan, and she offered no resistance as Killian dipped his hand lower to grab her thigh and pull her leg around his hips again.  He spun them to pin her to the wall and dived in to ravage her throat.

“Larger audience,” he growled, nuzzling her neck.  “Might be trouble.”

Emma reluctantly opened her eyes, forcing herself to survey the street again.  The hunter had disappeared, but a handful of disreputable-looking men milled about the street.  Their attention was fixed on Emma and Killian, and they seemed to be considering upgrading their status from observers to participants in the presumed lovers’ activity.  

Emma growled, low in her chest.  Killian sucked hard on her neck in response, making her cry out in surprised pleasure.  She reflexively threaded her fingers in his hair, holding him tight against her for a moment.  He obligingly continued to devour her skin, surely marking her with his intense ministrations.  

“Are you ready?” Emma whispered into Killian’s ear as the riffraff began to approach.

He let out a dark little chuckle, and Emma couldn’t help but grin.  

“Gods, woman,” he murmured, nipping her neck again.  She could feel the smile in his voice.  

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she purred, biting his earlobe.

“Mm,” he replied, pulling his hips an inch away from hers so he could snake his hand between their bodies and fiddle with his belt.  His knuckles pressed distractingly against Emma’s center.  “How many?” he asked running his nose up her neck to her ear.

“Five,” she said.

“No killing,” he whispered.  “Leave them for the watch.”

Emma scoffed, offended.

“There is no watch in Tortuga,” she murmured levelly.

“Still,” he said, “no killing.”

“You’re insulting my reputation,” Emma rasped.  She bit down harder on his earlobe, making him flinch.  “You’ve done your research.  You know I’ve never committed murder.”

He pulled back an inch and met her eyes.

“Perhaps I needed to remind myself,” he said, his eyes hardening.  “Their intentions disgust me.”

“I can take care of myself,” Emma huffed.  “As you well know.”

Killian cocked an eyebrow at her, but she just pulled his face into the crook of her neck again.  He resumed nibbling on her skin.

Emma moaned again for the benefit of the mob of ruffians who were approaching.  Killian’s hand, still hidden between their bodies, finished re-fastening his belt and shifted over to grip the hilt of his sword.

“Well, well, boys,” came a snide voice from the middle of the street.  “Seems this bloke don’t know ‘ow to proper satisfy ‘is wench.”

Several voices answered in snickers and murmured assent.

Killian lifted his head lazily and turned to glance over his shoulder.

“This is a private affair,  _mate_ ,” he said in annoyance.  “Bugger off.”

“‘Ow’s about  _you_  bugger off,” the ringleader said, “an’ we take over wif the lady.”

“Not going to happen,” Killian sneered, enunciating each word in a clear staccato.  He released Emma’s thigh and began to turn toward the would-be rapists.

The ringleader, a wiry, olive-skinned man with greasy black hair, pulled a shortsword from a sheath on his thigh.  A couple of the other men followed suit, revealing cudgels and daggers.  

Killian finished his turn to face them fully and drew his sword, making it ring against its scabbard.  He stepped in front of Emma, as if to protect her (though Emma was sure that he wasn’t acting in his intention to shield her).  Emma let it happen, because playing the damsel would afford her the element of surprise.  She kept her back to the wall and her eyes wide, watching the menfolk as they had their pissing contest.

“‘At’s a pretty sword,” the ringleader said.  “It’ll be mine right soon iffin you don’t make yerself scarce, boy.”

“Big words from a small man,” Killian replied, raising his arm and pointing the tip of his cutlass at the greasy-haired loudmouth.

“Get ‘im!” the ringleader exclaimed, but Emma noticed that he held his place, expecting the others in his group to attack first.  

Two did, and Killian bandied with them skillfully.  The skirt of his coat flared out attractively as he spun and lunged.  Killian disarmed the first man with ease and knocked him unconscious with his own cudgel.  The second hesitated when he saw the speed with which Killian dispatched his compatriot, and he ended up in the dirt next to him.  The first man’s cudgel thunking sharply against the side of the second man’s head.  

With all eyes focused on Killian, Emma vaulted out of the alley, springing nimbly for the ringleader.  His eyes bulged when he saw her coming, a yellow-haired wraith streaking toward him with surprising speed.

He lifted his shortsword too late.  Emma kicked it out of his hand and punching him hard in the jaw, leaving the imprint of her largest ring on the man’s cheek.  As his head snapped backward, Emma grabbed a double handful of his grimy shirt and yanking down, bringing her knee up to slam into his solar plexus.  He let out a muffled huff, his weight off balance and head lolling to one side.  Emma yanked on his shirt again, leaning back and to the right with her upper body to throw the thin man over her hip.  He flipped like a rag doll in the air and landed hard on his back, his eyes open and wide for a moment before they rolled up into his head.  He let out a pained groan and fell limp.

Straightening up, Emma brushed her hands together and turned to the two remaining thugs.

“Who’s next?” Emma purred, a grin forming on her face.

Killian crossed the street to stand beside her, his sword still unsheathed.

The pair of ruffians fled.

Emma and Killian surveyed the street silently for a moment before Emma turned to face the leather-clad lieutenant.    

“Not bad,” she said huskily as he sheathed his sword.

He snorted.

“Nor yourself,” he replied, his lips curving up.

Emma closed the distance between them and hauled his face down to hers by his lapels, pressing her mouth eagerly to his.  He responded immediately, his former shyness seeming to have melted away with the rush of battle.

He wrapped his arm around her and hauled one of her legs up around his hip.  He pressed himself fully against her this time without prompting.  Breathing hard, they aimed their adrenaline at each other, kissing sloppily and groping each other with abandon, moans and gasps falling freely from their lips.  

“Ugh!” Ruby’s voice called out, calling Emma’s attention reluctantly away from Killian again.  “I miss all the fun!”

With a frustrated sigh, Emma pulled back from Killian and looked at her first mate, who was surveying the street with a pout.  Ruby crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight, jutting out one hip petulantly.

“Has Price been sorted?” Emma asked Ruby, her voice thready.  She leaned hard against Killian, and he leaned right back.  They were both out of breath and panting.  Emma kept her arm around Killian as the three sailors began making their way back to the docks.

“Aye, Captain,” Ruby said.  “The exchange will take place tomorrow.”

Emma exhaled through her nose, nodding.  

“And will his information cost me an arm and a leg?” Emma asked with a degree of irritation.

“Just about,” Ruby muttered.

Emma grunted at that, but said nothing.  She tried to focus her thoughts on Lester Price and her mission, but Killian’s arm was slung around her, his hand resting on her hip.  His thumb traced idle patterns on the skin just above her belt.

The man had played his part perfectly—perhaps a little too well.  Emma was definitely flustered.  As they walked toward the docks, Emma tried to decide what to do with the lieutenant when they arrived at her ship.


	5. Chapter 5

**—KPOV—**

Killian Jones was not at all accustomed to extravagant displays of physical affection.  He had, of course, kissed girls before, but blatant public fondling was not something he’d been a part of before the pirate Swan had straddled him in  _The Tall Lassie_.  Her actions in  _The One-Eyed Harlot_ were no less surprising, though Killian felt he had comported himself with whatever amounted to the pirate version of good form.

In fact, he found it rather easy to lavish his attentions upon Swan.  Easy, and rather intoxicating, especially due to the enthusiasm with which she kissed.  She fought like a demon, as well, though with more grace than Killian would have thought possible to possess outside a ballroom.  She seemed to possess a razor wit, and was more stubborn and forceful of personality than many burly men Killian knew.  The woman was a gale—a tempest.  She was a force of nature to be revered and weathered, not contained or predicted.  

If one had asked Killian Jones a week prior to describe the qualities to be desired in a woman, he would not have listed hers.  And yet Killian Jones was properly smitten.

With a pirate.

As the three sailors sauntered brazenly toward the docks, Killian’s hand curled possessively around Swan’s hip as she idly fondled his posterior, Killian wondered what in the hell he was going to do when they arrived at the ship.

The red-cloaked woman, Ruby, kept up a stream of idle chatter as they walked, but neither he nor Swan seemed to be listening.  As they neared the gangplank, Killian felt a small, niggling panic beginning to seat itself in his chest.  He reluctantly released Swan and gave her and Ruby a small bow.

“Apologies, ladies,” he said, “but I must visit the head.  I will return shortly.”

Swan cocked her head to the side and then nodded.

Killian walked swiftly away from the two women, turning the corner around a small outbuilding for storage of ropes and buoys.  Once hidden behind it, he slumped against the wall, letting his head thunk against it as he sighed.  He took a few deep breaths, wondering what he’d gotten himself into.

“I’m just saying,” a female voice drifted across the water to Killian’s ears, “that it would be stupid to waste this opportunity.  He’s gorgeous!”

“That’s not the only thing that matters,” Swan replied with a sigh.  She sounded completely different from the confident pirate he’d met.  She sounded older, tired.  

“When was the last time you had some fun?” Ruby asked.  Her voice dropped a little and Killian had to strain to hear.  “It’s been almost ten years, Em.  It wouldn’t be betraying Bae’s memory.”

_Em?_   Killian frowned.  Something was flittering in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Swan hrmphed.

“What’s taking him so long?” she muttered.

“Maybe he bolted,” Ruby said, but she didn’t sound like she believed her own words.

“No, he said he’d come back,” Swan said with a strange confidence.  “He was telling the truth.”

“You know that’s a damn annoying talent you have,” Ruby pointed out.

“It’s saved our skins more times than I can count,” Swan said.

“Fair enough,” Ruby said.

A moment of silence fell and Killian took a deep breath, preparing himself for facing the ladies again.

“You like him,” Ruby said, making Killian go still again.  

_Eavesdropping is bad form_ _,_  he told himself, but he couldn’t seem to make himself move.  he held his breath, waiting for Swan to reply.

“Doesn’t matter,” Swan said finally, making Killian blink.  Her voice was heavy with pain and loss.

“But he likes you, too,” Ruby protested.  “Maybe you could—”

“You know I can’t,” Swan said, cutting off her first mate.  “The risk is too great.”

It was Ruby’s turn to sigh.

There was another beat of silence, and Killian forced himself to kick away from the wall and come around the corner into sight of the two women.

“Ah, there he is,” Ruby said in a louder voice.  “I told you they can have a difficult time at it when they are… excited.”

Killian felt his cheeks go pink when he realized what she was saying.

“I apologize for keeping you lovely ladies waiting,” Killian said, trying his best to grin through his embarrassment.  

He strode across to meet them, taking up his position next to Swan.  He offered her his elbow.

“Oh, now you’re going to be a gentleman?” she scoffed.

“I’m always a gentleman,” he purred.

Swan eyed him sideways, but she threaded her arm through his smoothly, tucking her fingers into the crook of his elbow exactly as a high-born lady should.

But how would a high-born lady have become a pirate?

Killian mused on that topic for a remaining steps up to the deck of the  _Yellow Beetle_.  Once they were aboard, Ruby made her hasty good nights and vanished below decks, leaving Killian and Swan alone in the cool night air.

Swan released Killian’s elbow and stepped in front of him, lifting her arms to lazily drape them around his neck.  He immediately slipped his arms around her waist, but kept a polite inch of space between them, hidden by his coat.  She allowed it and leaned her head forward onto his shoulder, placing her lips near his ear.

“You’ll have to stay in my cabin tonight,” she murmured, “in case of spies.”

Killian scanned the dock over Swan’s head.  He saw a handful of people about.  He grunted, not really an assent or refusal.

“This way,” she said, releasing his neck and stepping back.  She took one of his hands in hers and tugged him across the deck to the hatch that led to her cabin.  She descended first, looking up at him when she reached the bottom.

With a deep breath to try to settle his nerve, Killian followed Swan into her quarters and closed the hatch.

It was nearly pitch black in the cabin.  The thinnest glimmer of starlight filtered in through thick, bubbled windows.  Killian heard the familiar sound of a steel striking a piece of flint, and then a small light blossomed, revealing Swan’s face in a golden halo.  She transferred her tiny ember to an oil lamp and adjusted the wick, casting the room in a soft, yellow glow.  

Her task complete, Swan looked up to find Killian watching her.  They held each other’s gaze for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.  Killian was captivated by her beauty, which seemed magnified by the flickering light.  He felt like a fool of a boy as he stared, his tongue thick and useless in his mouth.  

Finally, Swan broke the pregnant moment by yanking her eyes from his.  She raked her fingers through her hair, turning from him to stride across the room to a cabinet.  

“You played your part well tonight, Lieutenant,” she said casually, her voice taking on an impersonal tone.  She rummaged through the cabinet for a moment before retrieving a dark glass bottle and a pair of tiny pewter cups.

“Thank you,” Killian said, reflexively bowing his head.  “As did you.”

She let out a throaty little laugh.

“Who says I was acting?” Swan purred.  She gave him a sultry look before setting the bottle and cups on the table.  

Killian chuffed.

“More rum?” he asked.  “Is that your solution for everything?”

“Doesn’t hurt,” Swan said with a snide little smile.  

Killian snorted, but he joined her at the table and accepted the offered libation.  They clinked their cups together before throwing back the shots in unison.  The burn didn’t bother Killian as much as it had the first time.  

Swan refilled the cups immediately and drank her second one while Killian watched her.  When she threw her head back, he noticed something on her neck.  He let out a little gasp when he realized what the purple splotch was from.

“What?” Swan asked, raising an eyebrow at him as she poured her third and threw it back.

“Your… throat,” he said.  “I—I marked it.  My apologies.”

She blinked at him for a moment, and then her hand came up to graze her own skin.

“Where?” she asked.

“Just there,” he said, pointing.  

She stroked her throat, her expression evaluative.  

“It adds to the image, wouldn’t you say?” she mused, meeting his eyes.

“I…  I suppose,” he stammered.  “But I meant you no harm.  Does it pain you?”

Her eyebrows shot up her forehead.

“Have you never had a love bite?” she asked, a coy grin slowly spreading across her face as she poured herself a fourth shot.

“I can’t say that I have,” Killian replied, busying himself with drinking his second shot of rum to avoid her eyes.  Her musical laugh made the color rise in his cheeks.

“We’ll have to remedy that,” Swan murmured, making Killian swallow hard.

“I’m not sure that’s necessary—” Killian started to protest, but Swan ignored his words.  She drank her fourth shot of rum before rising to stride purposefully around the table to him.  She swiveled his chair to face away from the table and climbed into his lap, straddling him as she had in the tavern before she’d kissed him for the first time.

His breath caught as he watched her.  His eyes widened as she drew the fabric of his coat and shirt to the side, exposing the expanse of his neck and shoulder.  

She shifted her hips, pressing firmly against him as her lips descended toward his skin.  She held still for a moment, her lips hovering a hairsbreadth away from him, her breath puffing hotly on his skin.

Killian realized he was holding his breath and let it out in a shaky huff.  He heard her chuckle again, and then her lips touched his flesh.  

She kissed the spot where his neck met his shoulder and then her lips parted and he felt her teeth graze across his skin.  He tried and failed to stifle the groan that rose through his chest at the scrape of her teeth.  Then she gently sucked his flesh into her mouth and bit down.  The sound that escaped Killian was dangerously close to a whimper.  

He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, but held her loosely, his fingers shaking and brushing lightly on her back.

Swan sucked and nibbled on his neck for an indeterminate amount of time.   It could have been mere seconds or the span of eternity for all Killian could tell of the hour. Nothing beyond their sphere of flickering golden lamplight held any sway over him in that moment.  

When Swan finally pulled back, her eyes were dilated and her fingers were still twisted in the collar of his coat.  She rolled her hips against him again and he let out an indecent groan, unable to keep himself from bucking up to meet her.  His hands slid down to her waist to clutch her belt for support; he felt as though he’d melt off the chair without his grip on her.  His chest was heaving, and his blood was pounding through his veins as if her touch commanded it to rage and froth within him.

They held each other’s eyes for a minute before Swan dove back in to capture his mouth.  She tasted like rum, and he found he couldn’t complain about the burn when he drank it from her lips.  He kissed her eagerly, and her sloppy, needy movements against him made Killian feel powerful and desired.

But her whole demeanor seemed somehow altered, and Killian couldn’t help but wonder how much of her action was fueled by drink.  Reluctantly, he slowed and then stilled beneath her as she continued to rut and nip at him, her motions jerky and desperate.

“Swan,” he said gently, catching her wrists as she tried to undo his vest.

She let out a frustrated whine.

“You needn’t do this, love,” he said, craning his head back to try to meet her eyes.  “I’ve made no assumptions, and I’m making no demands.”

“Wouldn’t be doing it if you had,” she muttered, her words slurring a little as her head tilted to the side.

Killian let out a startled little chuckle.

“Do you mean to say that you are seducing me  _because_  I’m a gentleman?” he asked in amusement.

Swan made a noise of frustrated embarrassment.  

“Seducing you because I want to,” she slurred.  “S’been a long time.”

She pulled her hands out of his grasp and went back to unbuttoning his vest.

“Swan—” he began, his tone firm and touched with exasperation.

“Emma,” she interrupted, seemingly without thinking.  

When she realized what she’d said, her eyes went almost comically wide.  She threw herself backwards out of his lap, landing on her arse on the deck of the cabin.  She let out an ooph, her expression panicked.

Killian was on his feet in an instant, offering her his hands to help her up.  She stared at him with scared, wary eyes before finally, tentatively accepting his offer of assistance.  

She teetered a bit once she was on her feet, but Killian steadied her.  Her expression had sobered quickly, but she was clearly terrified.

The sound of her name coming from her own lips and her panicked reaction made the other pieces fall into place in Killian’s mind:  Her grace, her high level of education and diplomacy, her tenacity, her beauty, even her love for the cabin boy who was certainly her own flesh and blood—perhaps that was why she’d run away: a youthful dalliance resulting in a child from wedlock.  It was a scandalous story, and he could see it driving a young princess away from her castle.

“I suppose that solves the mystery of your mercy toward King David’s kingdom,” he said jovially, trying to lighten the mood.

She gasped, throwing her hand over her mouth.  

Yes, he could see it in every line of her, now.  How had he missed it?  Eleven years away from home had aged her, but her chin still belonged to her mother.  Her eyes still reflected her father, despite the kohl.  The defiance of her brow belied her regal upbringing—though it lended itself well to the swagger of piracy.

“You’re not going to drag me home?” she said, her voice almost accusatory in its disbelief.

Killian’s mouth fell open.  Truthfully, he hadn’t considered it.  It certainly hadn’t been his first thought.  He didn’t think himself the sort to drag a woman anywhere against her will.

“I consider myself a man of honor,” he said, purposefully clipping the endearment or title he naturally wanted to add to his declaration “and I swore to aid you in your pursuit of the pirate lord.  That seems a difficult task to manage if I carted you back to the castle.  Also, I hardly think you’d go quietly.”

She snorted, the corner of her mouth curving up for a second before she frowned at him again.

“But why?” she asked, searching his eyes.  “Why help me still?  Surely your loyalty is to my father, not me.”

Killian cocked his head to the side, his tongue pressing against his teeth as he considered her question.

“Perhaps it should be,” he mused.  “But I hardly see how assisting and protecting you on your quest is disloyal.”

She licked her lips as she weighed his words.

“And when Blackbeard is dead?” she asked, still cautious, her eyes intent on his.

Killian nodded once, inhaling as he thought about her query.  He already knew his answer, but if she truly had a gift for reading truth, he wanted her to see the verity of his words clearly.  He withdrew his hands from their place on her arms and took a step back.  

“Your royal highness,” he said with a formal bow.  He didn’t lower his eyes, so he saw her go stiff at the title.  His voice dropped as he raised his head.  “Princess Emma.”

She made a face.

Killian loved the feel of her name on his lips more than he should.  He savored the taste of it before his lips quirked up and he spoke again: “Captain Swan.”

She actually rolled her eyes at that.  

He grinned at her for a second before he dropped to one knee.  He took a deep breath and wet his lips before speaking the words he’d memorized as a naval cadet.

“Hereby do I swear to thee my fealty,” he declared in a low, measured voice that shook with the intensity of his emotion.  “I swear that I shall shield thee with my flesh, protect thee with my life, and serve thee faithfully with mine every breath.  I am now—and shall ever be—thine humble servant.”

He held her wide, awe-filled eyes for another long moment before dropping his gaze.  He folded his hands over his knee and bowed his head, kneeling before her and awaiting her acceptance or denial.

Time stretched out again, and Killian closed his eyes.  Doubt trickled down his spine as he wondered if she would even reply.  The words he’d spoken were powerful, but they were also old.  She was royal, but she’d been a long time gone from her palace.  Would she even know what he was offering?

When Killian felt her fingers tentatively touch his head, he nearly cried out in relief.  She ran her fingers through his hair before setting her hand firmly upon the crown of his head.

He heard her take a deep breath before speaking.

“I accept thy vow, dear servant,” she recited formally, her voice barely above a whisper.  Despite the quiet volume, her words carried all the authority of her erstwhile royal station, and hearing her answer him with the traditional response made Killian’s chest tighten with emotion.  Her voice reverberated through the cabin and through Killian, seeming to settle into his very bones.  “So long as men serve me, so must I serve my people.  As thou guardest me, so shall I clothe thee.  As thou adviseth me, so shall I feed thee.  As thou servest me, so shall I serve thee, for all the days of my life.”

Killian raised his head and met her gaze.  Her eyes were clear, and her expression was serious with a lingering touch of awe.  Killian was sure the wonder was mirrored in his own eyes.  His breathing was still ragged and he was grateful that his hands weren’t shaking.

Swan withdrew her fingers from Killian’s hair and offered him her hands.  He took them gratefully but put no weight on them as he stood before her, his heart pounding in his chest.  They stood facing one another, hands clasped, as they recited the final lines of the ancient oath in unison.

“As thou art bound to me, so shall I be bound to thee,” they said in one voice before speaking their individual portions at the same time:

“For without a vassal, there can be no lord.”

“For without a lord, there can be no vassal.”

They held each other’s eyes for another long moment before Swan— _Princess Emma_ _,_  he reminded himself.  He was still dazzled by the prospect—smiled at him, her lips quirking in amusement.

“ _The Knight’s Oath_ , seriously?” she asked, her fingers still entwined with his.

He grinned sheepishly, shifting his weight.  He pulled back one of his hands to scratch behind his ear, and she let go of his other hand as well.

“It was the first thing that came to mind,” he murmured, dropping his gaze.

She laughed, a musical sound that made him feel warm instead of slighted.  He lifted his eyes to see her smile at him again before her expression became grave.

She wrung her hands.

“I’m not even sure I still have the authority to make such vows,” she mused, her forehead furrowing.

It was Killian’s turn to chuckle.

“I didn’t assume that I was truly being knighted,” he said with a grin.  “The words just…  It—It feltright.”

He licked his lips before continuing in a serious tone.

“Whether the words are legally binding or not,” he whispered reverently, “I meant what I said.”

He watched as she bit her lip, bowing her head and looking at him through her eyelashes.  He felt his pulse stutter at the sight of her.  Pirate or princess (or both), she was a beautiful woman.

“I respect that… Killian.”

The sound of his name falling from her lips made his heart constrict almost painfully.

“Emma,” he said, breathing her name like a prayer.

She lifted her head to look at him properly, and Killian felt himself stepping forward as if pulled by gravity.  He slid his right hand along her cheek, his fingers slipping between strands of her golden hair.  Her own palm flattened against his chest, her thumb brushing lightly against his exposed skin, making him break out in gooseflesh.  She lifted her chin as he bowed his head, and their lips met with an intensity completely different from their previous kisses.  This one was languid and smoldering instead of frantic and rough.

But she still tasted like rum, and Killian was a gentleman.

“Perhaps you should lie down, love,” he murmured, rubbing her nose with his.  “It is rather late.”

She pressed her lips to his again, but he kept the kiss chaste, walking her backward toward her bunk.  She kept quiet, watching him as he knelt before her again, this time to remove her boots.  She unbuckled her belt and then reached behind herself to loosen the laces of her cincher.  He let her shove his coat off his shoulders and unbutton his vest as he toed off his own boots.  

When his belt clattered to the floor and they were each just in their loose shirts and tight britches, Killian let Emma haul him into her bed beside her.  

She tried again to entice him, but he met each kiss with chaste lips and he redirected her questing fingers with gentle firmness.  Her frustrated whine was both endearing and pathetic.

Eventually, her body went limp in his arms, her face relaxing as sleep claimed her.  Killian smiled as he watched an enigma of a woman be swept away in dreams.  He counted silently to a hundred before he carefully slipped out of her bed, making her pout in her sleep.  She gave one more reedy whine when his warmth disappeared, but then she let out a sigh and rolled, moving to occupy the space he’d left.

Killian watched her for another minute before he folded up his borrowed coat, making a pillow of it.  He cleared their discarding clothing from the deck and stretching out on his back next to her bed, letting the motion of the boat compensate for the hardness of his chosen bunk.


	6. Chapter 6

**—EPOV—**

Emma woke reluctantly, letting out a low groan of protest as her muscles flexed stiffly beneath her skin. Her head pounded, her eyes burned, and her belly ached.  She’d forgotten to take off her damn breeches before bed and the laces had dug into her flesh overnight, leaving bright red ridges across her tender skin.  With a soft sigh of frustration, she shimmied out of the offending garment before forcing herself out of bed. 

She’d scarcely set her feet out of her bunk before she tripped over something.  With an undignified shriek, she tumbled to the ground, grabbing anything she could find on her way down in an attempt to stop her fall.  She landed hard on a lumpy something that turned out to be a someone.  They rolled, all elbows and knees and cursing until Emma found herself on her back with an attractively disheveled blue-eyed man staring down on her with wide, quizzical eyes.

Emma took advantage of his moment of confusion, grabbing the man’s shirt and yanking him sideways, rolling them again so that she was the one on top.  Peering down at him, her vantage point granted her a moment of clarity, and the events of the previous evening slowly started to work their way through the fog of her hangover.

“Captain?” Ruby’s muffled voice called through the hatch.  Wood screeched across wood, making Emma flinch, and then murderously bright sun streamed its deadly beams down into the cabin, illuminating Emma and the blue-eyed man in eye-searing clarity.  

As Emma blinked the stars out of her eyes and loudly cursed the day of Ruby’s birth, she realized how she and the lieutenant must look:  Killian lay beneath her as she straddled him, her bare legs visible beneath the loose material of her shirt.  His hands, she realized, were clutching her naked thighs, and she was seated on him exactly where she would be if they were—

“Oh!  Forgive me, captain!” Ruby squeaked before throwing the hatch closed again, casting Emma and Killian back into relative darkness.

A moment of pregnant silence passed in the cabin before Emma felt a curl of nervous, self-deprecating laughter bubble up through her chest.  Just enough sunlight filtered in through the cabin windows to allow Emma to see Killian’s bewildered expression.  It set off another peal of giggles, and she threw her head back, unable to deny the ridiculousness of her situation.  Emma let the manic laughter wash through her, her whole body vibrating with the intensity of the sensation as she bounced in place.

“Swa—Emma?” Killian said, his voice tinged with concern.  

Emma rolled her hips and shoulders as she shifted to look down at him.  She let her hands fall lightly on his chest.  He let out a barely restrained grunt, and she felt his hips stutter beneath hers.

And that wasn’t all she could feel.

His hands still clutched her thighs, but his face was a mask of careful control despite their compromising position (and he was definitely compromised).  

“Mm, good morning, lieutenant,” she purred, rolling forward, shifting her hips against his and lowering her chest until her lips were mere inches from his.

“Good morning,” he squeaked in reply.

Leaning forward made Emma’s headache return, so she quickly leaned back with a moan, pressing one palm to her face.  She heard Killian’s tiny gasp and felt his hands and hips jerk again.

“Help me up,” she groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Is… that a euphemism?” he tentatively asked.

Emma couldn’t help but snort at the shy-but-hopeful way he said the word..

“No,” she sighed.  “I turned my ankle when I tripped over you.  Why the hell were you lying under my bed?”

“I…” he began, his cheeks going pink.  Emma slowly raised an eyebrow, but her foggy brain make the connection.

“You were trying to be a gentleman,” she accused.

He opened his mouth but closed it with a little pop, his eyes sheepishly rising to meet hers.

“Guilty as charged,” he said with a bashful smile.  He shifted beneath her and then immediately stilled.  “Ah… I’m not entirely sure how to assist you from this position.”

“You mean apart from the obvious?” she teased, rolling her hips against his again.

He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a moment.

“I thought it was you we were trying to get up, your highness,” he gasped through clenched teeth.

Emma raised an eyebrow at that.

“If you call me that again,” Emma threatened in a honeyed tone, “you’ll never need to worry about _getting up_  again.”

He let out a snort and then licked his lips.

“Then what shall I call you?” he asked, his voice taking on a hushed tone.  His eyes searched hers, far too serious for their current predicament.

_Emma_ , her heart replied immediately, but she tamped the foolish impulse down.

“Swan,” she said coolly, she was relieved that her voice didn’t waver.  “Only Swan.”

He blinked, and his eyes narrowed fractionally before one eyebrow raised.  He made no verbal query, but she heard the question all the same.  She’d given him the name the night before.  He wanted to know why.  Damn him, he was so perceptive.  And now he was sworn to her, but that was all the more reason to hold him distant.  She was his liege, not his lover, not his love.  

They had a mission to complete.

Emma scooted backward along his thighs, and he sat up.  His hands slid distractingly down her legs to her knees before he lifted them to offer her support.  She placed her palms on his and leaned forward, putting her weight on his hands.  His nose brushed her cleavage as she clumsily rolled from her knees to her feet—she almost wished she’d done it on purpose when she heard his muffled grunt.  Grinning, she tested her ankles.  The right one was surprisingly tender, and she’d need to bind it before donning her boots.

Emma shuffled toward her bunk, and Killian appeared beside her.  He’d had no issue rising to his own feet.  She leaned on him gratefully, not prideful enough to deny offered assistance when she needed it.

“Let me see it…  _Swan_ ,” he said with a touch of gruffness.

Emma huffed noncommittally as she sat down on the edge of her bed, but she obligingly straightened her injured left leg.  Killian knelt in front of her and his hands ghosted over her skin, raising gooseflesh.  He dragged his fingertips lightly over every part of her ankle before he slipped his fingers around her instep and her leg just above the joint.  He rocked her foot in a slow circle, making pain shoot up Emma’s leg.

She cried out, and Killian immediately went still.

She heard him take a few breaths and felt the sweat that was accumulating under his palms.  Dimly, Emma realized how her cry must have sounded after their previous state of indecency.  Hell, Emma was still naked beneath her gauzy shirt, and for all she knew, the good lieutenant was a virgin.     

“I think one of the bones here may be cracked,” he said in a low, husky voice.  His fingers idly trailed up her calf.  

Emma let out a huff of frustration.

“Best call for Whale, then,” she sighed, closing her eyes and running a hand through her hair.  “Will you go up and tell Ruby to fetch him?”

Killian made no reply, his fingers still tracing feathery circles on her skin.  Emma opened her eyes and found his gaze fixed firmly on the bulkhead to his left.  

“Perhaps you should don some clothing before I fetch the medic?” he asked.

Emma realized her shirt had ridden higher up her thigh when she’d raised her arm to touch her hair. The entirety of her right leg was visible from the sole of her foot to the top of her hip.

A slow smile crept over Emma’s face.  She couldn’t help but tease him again—he made it to easy.  She dragged her right leg sideways, leaning forward so the fabric of her shirt pooled between her thighs and fell open at the neckline.  

“What if he needs to examine me?” she purred.  She took a deep breath, puffing out her chest to draw his eyes.  “Will you stay in case I need assistance…  _undressing_?”

He sputtered, the crimson of his face darkening by the second as he desperately tried to not look at the parts of her body to which she was drawing attention.

“Swan,” he choked.

Wide blue eyes met hooded green ones, and Emma marveled at how he could play the rogue the night before and still be shy in the morning.  Seven hells, he’d given as good as he’d got in the tavern and the street.  But once they were alone, he clammed up like a man who either felt nothing or guilt.

“Do you already have a lover?” Emma gasped.  “Is that why you—?”

“No!” he responded emphatically, shaking his head.  “N-no, I have no… lover.”

His eyes flicked back to hers on the last word, and his lilt caressed the term.

“Then why..?”

Emma gave herself a little shake.  She shouldn’t feel rejected, but she did.

“My lady—” he began.

“ _Don’t_ ,” she gritted.

“Swan,” he said, infusing the name with annoyance before he moderated his tone to something softer.  “I’ve only just met you, lass.  I won’t deny the effect you have on me, but I pride myself on being a man of honor.”

Emma exhaled through her nose in frustration.

“Lieutenant—”

“Killian,” he corrected gently.  He gave a little sigh and she watched pain flit across his face.  “I can’t imagine I’ll be able to rejoin the navy after… this.”

He gestured with one hand as he spoke the last word.

“We’ve got time before your brother will return from the palace,” Emma protested.  

“Perhaps,” he said softly, he met her eyes again with a serious expression, “but I’ve sworn an oath to you.  I won’t set that aside.”

Emma could feel his honesty in her bones.  Her mouth fell open, but no sound came out.  She closed her lips and tried again, but still all words evaded her.  He gave her a sad smile.

Emma wracked her brain for a solution to his problem, suddenly desperate to ease his obvious sense of loss.  Her eyes fell finally on her desk.

“A leave of absence,” she blurted out.  “On order of the king.”

“What?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowing.  He cocked his head to the side and blinked at her in confusion.

“Draft a letter to your brother,” Emma said, her voice filling with confidence as the idea coalesced in her head.  “Tell him you are going away for a time, but give no details.”

“Swan, I don’t understand,” he said.  “I cannot simply tell my brother I am leaving him.  Our father—I won’t… It’s complicated.”

“I have my father’s seal,” Emma said, revealing one of her most guarded secrets.  “I will write a missive detailing your absence from your duties aboard the  _Jewel_  and sign it in my father’s name.”

“The king,” Killian whispered, his eyes wide.  His face went slack.  “But that would be—”

“I’ve done it before,” Emma said.  “Not to free a sailor from his position, but for other various reasons.”

Killian stared at her in open-mouthed shock.

“But surely the king would have replaced his seal by now,” he finally said.  “Why would he allow such deceit—unless he know you have it.  Does the king know where you are?”

His eyebrows furrowed lower as he stared at her.

“Of course not,” Emma said.  She was surprised to feel her cheeks going pink.  “But I think he… I think he has never countermanded one of my decrees or exposed the loss of his seal because he hopes one day I’ll use it in a way that will allow him to find me.”

Killian blinked a few times before nodding thoughtfully.  His expression opened.

“He is a wise king,” he mused.  He examined Emma for a moment before one of his eyebrows slowly rose.  “May I ask what you’ve used the seal for in the past?”

Emma grinned wistfully, remembering the last time she’d written a decree.  She’d only used it four times in ten years.  The most recent had been a complete frivolity.  

“I ordered all the palace guardsmen’s helmets to be adorned with lavender feathers for the week of the queen’s birthday,” Emma said.

Killian let out a startled laugh, shaking his head in surprise as he grinned at Emma.

“Why?” he asked with wonder in his voice.

“I wanted her to know I was alive,” Emma murmured.  She gave a little shrug, leaning back.  She closed her eyes and let her head thump against the bulkhead behind her bunk as she thought about what must have happened in the palace when they’d received the missive.  

Killian’s grip on Emma’s calf suddenly tightened.

“Swan,” he gasped.  His tone made Emma open her eyes again.  His face was crimson.  “Will you please put on some clothing?”

Emma blinked at him before realizing her shirt had ridden up again when she’d leaned back.  She still had her legs apart, and he was kneeling beside her bunk.  She let out an amused chuckle and sat up, crossing her legs and tucking her shirt around her thighs.

“There is a dressing gown in the drawer to your left,” she said.  

He retrieved the robe quickly and shook out the azure fabric before offering it to her.  Emma took it with a little nod.  She started to take off her shirt, and Killian turned away, scrambling to his feet.  He stood rigidly at attention while she drew her blouse over her head and threw it past him to where their boots were lying near the ladder.  Emma watched Killian’s shoulders stiffen when he saw the discarded garment.  Grinning, Emma slipped her arms into the sleeves of her robe, sighing as the slick feel of silk against her skin.  She stood up, careful not to put any weight on her injured leg, and let the skirt of the dressing gown cascade down around her.  She tied the sash and then flipped her hair back.

“Am I decent?” she asked, leaning back against her bunk.

Killian made a perfect about-face and Emma watched him swallow as he let his eyes rove over her.

“Not at all,” he murmured, “but I’ll fetch the medic anyway.”

Emma grinned.

“Thank you,” she said, holding his eyes.

A small smile warmed his face before he made a stately bow and turned away again, striding across the cabin to the ladder.  


	7. Chapter 7

—KPOV—

Whale confirmed Killian’s untrained diagnosis and bound Emma’s broken ankle with splints and bandages.  He tried to convince Emma to use a walking stick, but she balked outright.  

“Then lean on your…whatever he is,” Victor said, gesturing vaguely toward Killian with a grimace.

Killian frowned at the medic, crossing his arms over his chest.  He had no issue helping Emma however she required, but he didn’t like the other man’s tone.

“When’s the meeting with Price?” Emma asked, turning to her first mate, who was perched on her desk.

“An hour after midday,” Ruby replied as Whale climbed out of the cabin.  “About two hours from now.  That’s why I came to check on you—since it was so late.  You hadn’t made morning rounds.”

“I was indisposed,” Emma said levelly, and Killian felt his ears warm up.

“Yeah, I got an eyeful this morning,” Ruby teased with a grin.  She eyed Killian up and down before turning back to Emma.  “Looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

Killian bit down hard on his tongue.

“Ruby,” Emma said in warning.

“All right, all right,” Ruby said, holding her hands up in surrender.

“Help me get dressed,” Emma directed.

Ruby hopped off the desk and approached her captain.  Killian turned to leave.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Emma called, making Killian stop in his tracks.

“I thought I’d give you two ladies some privacy,” he said, looking over his shoulder.

“No, I need you here,” she said in a firm voice.  

Killian cocked an eyebrow at her, and she caught a hint of a grin cross her face when Ruby turned to look at him.

“As you wish,” he intoned, nodding his head.

Ruby looked back and forth between them.  Her eyes narrowed as she furrowed her brow in contemplation.

“Since when does an upstanding naval officer taker orders from a pirate captain?” Ruby asked.  She examined Killian from head to toe.  

“I believe that’s my own concern,” Killian said, fidgeting under her scrutiny.  

Ruby let out a little gasp and spun to face Emma.

“You  _told him_ ,” she said in an accusatory squeak.  Emma tried to play innocent, but Killian could see right through her, and he imagined her friend could too.  Ruby held up an admonishing finger to Emma.  “What was all that last night about ‘the risk being too great,’ then, huh?”

“It was an accident,” Emma said, looking rather guilty.

“Perhaps we should focus on—” Killian tried to intervene, but Ruby spun around and cut him off.

“And you!” she exclaimed.  “You  _knew_ , and you still  _tickled your fancy_?  You are quite the surprise, lieutenant.”

“ _Ruby_ ,” Emma snapped in an authoritative tone.  “You  _will_  mind your tongue.”

“Aye,  _captain_ ,” Ruby said with only a tiny hint of mockery.  She busied herself looking through drawers and lockers for items of clothing.  She muttered under her breath, but none of the words were discernable.

“But we—” Killian began, feeling the need to set the record straight.

“It’s none of her business,  _lover_ ,” Emma said, giving him a measured look.  Killian cocked an eyebrow in response, but said nothing.  Emma gestured for him to approach her, and Killian immediately went to her side.

“Who else knows who you are?” Killian asked, breathing the words quietly into Emma’s ear.

“Just Ruby,” Emma murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck.  “I think Jefferson may suspect, but he’s never said anything outright.  He’s loyal once bought, and I pay him well.”

“Men like that cannot be trusted,” Killian whispered.

“He’s a  _pirate_ , darling,” Emma breathed against Killian’s neck.  He could feel her smile.  “But he’s never lied to me.”

“Because you have a gift for discerning lies?” Killian said, a little louder.

Ruby stood up and approached them, and she had apparently heard the last bit.

“Oh, he doesn’t believe it,” Ruby said, grinning suddenly.  “I love when that happens.  Can I ask the questions?”

The woman in red was looking at her captain with open excitement, biting her lip and bouncing a little on her feet.  

Emma laughed, pulling back from Killian.  

“Fine,” she said.  She looked amused.

And Ruby began asking him questions.

They began innocently enough, with queries about where Killian was from and how long he’d been sailing.   Killian answered honestly, feeling no reason to hide anything.  And then she asked about his parents.

“I never knew my father,” Killian said on reflex, without even thinking about the words.

“Lie,” Emma declared softly.  She raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing more.

“ _Finally_ ,” Ruby said.  She chewed on her lip for a second, eyeing before speaking again.  “Had you been with a woman before last night?”

She grinned broadly at him, her tongue caught between her teeth.

Killian’s mouth fell open.  He quickly shut it and felt color rising in his cheeks.  He looked to Emma, but she was watching him with open curiosity almost as intense as Ruby’s.

“Yes,” he finally blurted out, and he saw Emma’s eyes flash.  Her lips parted in surprise, but she schooled her expression quickly, reverting to her amused smirk as Ruby turned to look at her captain.

“Was that a lie?” Ruby asked.

“I think we’re done with this game,” Emma said evenly.

“Yeah, but was it a lie?” Ruby pressed.

Emma frowned at her first mate.

“Oh, come on!” Ruby whined, but Emma made no reply.

The game finished, Ruby quickly helped Emma into her clothes for the day.  With her ankle injured, skintight leather britches were not an option.  Ruby dressed her instead in a rather fetching white shift that ended in a three-tiered skirt that was longer on the right than on the left side.  She fastened a red cincher around Emma’s waist that matched Killian’s borrowed vest rather well, and helped her into a black jacket that cut off above her waist.  Emma strapped her sword belt back on as Ruby slipped a stocking and then her long, black boot over Emma’s right leg.  As a final touch, Ruby wrapped the splint and bandages on Emma’s left leg with plain black fabric.  It didn’t exactly look like a boot, but from a distance, it would be a reasonable camouflage.

“Well, I’d wear it better,” Ruby half-teased, “but I suppose you look reasonably good.”

“That is high praise from you,” Emma snarked back.

The two woman grinned at each other.

“Shall we ascend?” Killian asked.

Two sets of green eyes turned on Killian.

“How do you think she looks?” Ruby asked him pointedly.  Both women raised eyebrows.

“I—”Killian stammered, his  “I think she looks lovely.”

Ruby looked at Emma expectantly.

“Truth,” Emma said, her lips quirking up.

“Damn right,” Ruby muttered.

Emma snorted and looked away from her friend, but Killian could see her amused smirk.

Ruby crossed the room and began climbing up the ladder.  Killian immediately went to Emma’s side to help her walk without having to put weight on her injured leg.

“You will ascend behind me,” Emma declared, “to catch me if I should fall.”

“Perhaps I should instead go before you and pull you up?” Killian countered, his cheeks going red at the idea of standing beneath Emma while she wore a skirt.

Emma cocked an eyebrow at him in amusement, but seemed to be seriously considering her words.

“I suppose you have a point,” she said.  

“I could carry you up?” he offered.  

She considered his words for a moment before shuffling closer to him and wrapping her arms around his neck.  She lifted her injured leg, letting the skirt ride up as she wrapped her leg around his hip.  His hand came up reflexively to support her and landed on naked flesh.  He tried to stifle the groan that tore out of his chest, but he simply couldn’t control the way his body reacted to her.  He lifted her by her hips, and she wrapped her other leg around him.  He hoisted her up a little higher, so her leg were wrapped around his waist instead of his hips, and she tightened her grip around his neck.  She rested her head on his shoulder.

Killian took just a moment to enjoy the sensation before he mounted the steps, carefully climbing out of the cabin.

Once on deck, Killian carefully set Emma down, closing his eyes as his fingers slid along her bare thighs again.  It was starting to become a regular occurrence, but he knew he’d never be used to it.

The cabin boy, Henry, ran up to Emma, stopping just short of throwing his arms around her.  Killian really couldn’t see how anyone didn’t realize the boy was her son.  The family resemblance was strong, especially if one they Emma’s parentage.  

“I was worried about you,” Henry said, eyes wide.

Emma ruffled the boy’s hair.  

“Are you keeping my hay safe, lad?” Killian asked the boy.  Henry turned to look at him, doing a double-take.  

“You look different!” Henry exclaimed.  

“I suppose that was the idea,” Killian said with a grin.

Henry looked back and forth between Emma and Killian for a moment.

“I’m afraid we must be on our way,” Emma said gently.  “I’m moving a little slower than usual, today.”

“Doctor Whale said you broke your foot!” Henry declared with youthful enthusiasm.    

“That I did,” Emma replied.  She gestured for Killian, and he immediately put his arm around her, taking most of her weight as she shuffled toward the gangplank.  

“Henry,” Emma said, “run down and hire me a buggy or a rickshaw.”

“Yes,’m,” Henry replied, darting past them to do as he was told.

“Ruby,” Emma said, turning suddenly, “do you have whatever we owe Price?”

“Aye, Captain,” Ruby said with a nod.  She patted the satchel she had slung over her shoulder.  Killian was surprised that Emma didn’t seem to care what Ruby had promised the man.

Emma nodded back and began shuffling down the gangplank, forcing Killian to keep up.  By the time their feet touched the dock, Henry had returned, leading a man who drove a small open carriage pulled by a single gray gelding.  As they approached the carriage, Emma altered the way she walked slightly, making it look more like she was hungover than injured.

“Where to?” the driver asked in a gruff voice, keeping his eyes pointedly to himself.

“ _The Imp’s Castle_ ,” Ruby said.

The driver hrmphed, but made no other reply.  He didn’t get down and assist, either, as Ruby opened the door to the small carriage and the three of them piled in, Killian lifting Emma by her waist to place her gently inside.  He climbed in after her, and Ruby followed, sitting in the smaller seat that faced the back of the cab.  Killian sat down next to Emma and put his arm around her shoulder, assuming the lover routine was back on, since they were once more in public (not that their private interactions had seemed much different from their public ones, Killian mused).  Emma dropped her hand casually on Killian’s nearer thigh.

A few short minutes later, they arrived at a rather impressive-looking tavern.  The entire facade was intricately painted to make the simple wood look like marble and gilt.  Ruby exited the carriage first, settling up with the driver, while Killian helped Emma down and across to the tavern’s doors.

The great room of the tavern was very well-appointed, with intricately carved chairs placed around tables complete with table cloths and small lanterns that provided an intimate-feeling glow.  There was even a pretty lass in a simple but elegant dress waiting at the entryway to greet them.  

“Lester Price is expecting us,” Ruby said.

“Ah, yes,” the girl replied.  “Right this way.”

She led the three sailors through the main room and off to a hallway leading to a series of small, private dining rooms.  They each had a small slate on the door with a bit of chalk indicating to whom the room was let.  The hostess stopped at a door marked “LP” and knocked before opening the door.  

“Captain Price,” she said.  “Your party has arrived.”

“Send ‘em in,” Price replied, looking up from the table.  A sumptuous-looking meal was spread across the table, containing a whole suckling pig, platters of small roast fowl, tureens of sauces and gravies, soups, vegetables, and various puddings. There were five place settings not in use.  

Killian watched Emma nod Ruby to the other side of the table, then she similarly indicated to Killian where she wished to sit:  In the two seats on the near side of the table, with Emma adjacent to Price at the head, and Killian just to her left.

Killian let go of Emma long enough to pull out her chair for her, then helped her into the seat.  Price raised an eyebrow at the assistance, his eyes immediately lowering to examine Emma’s legs.  He looked contemplative.

Killian took his place next to Emma, moving his chair a little closer to hers that it had originally been placed.

“Do ye ‘ave my payment?” Price said immediately, foregoing any pleasantries.

“Aye,” Emma said.  She nodded to Ruby, who removed the satchel she was wearing and offered it to Price.  

The rotund man untied the flap of the bag and flipped it open to peer inside.  His expression didn’t change, but he stared into the pack for nearly a full minute before Ruby drew it away.

“You’ll have it once I have the information,” Emma said.

Price nodded.  

“Wot say we eat first, then?” he asked, almost polite.

Killian felt his stomach growl its opinion on the matter.  He realized he hadn’t eaten anything since the day before. Ruby dug in first, piling her plate with pork and poultry and covering it with a generous helping of gravy.  Emma and Killian followed, but Killian noticed she selected items that Price had in his plate.  Frowning, Killian did likewise.

The food was delicious.  

They ate in reasonably companionable silence, though Price was not a particularly quiet eater.  Emma touched Killian frequently while they ate, even offering him bites.  It was… strange.  Killian returned the favor, feeding her morsels of pudding and cream.  The actions made Price glower and Ruby smirk.

Once they were all sated, Emma turned her attention back to Price.  

“So,” she said, giving him an expectant look.

He frowned for a moment.  

“My source ‘as been outta communication for a bit,” he said, squirming.

Emma let out an exasperated noise.

“My nephew, ‘ee worked fo’… the person yer seekin,’” Price said hesitantly, looking around the private room as if he expected eavesdroppers.  “But ee’s recently retired affer a particularly successful… venture.”

Emma held Price’s eyes with a steady, unhappy expression on her face.  She waited.

Price sighed.

“Tim was always a thoughtful lad,” Price explained.  “‘Ee saved ‘is shares an’ built ‘em up.  ‘Ee’s retired, ya see, and moved ‘isself someplace… more suited to ‘is temperament.”

_Someplace far from wanted posters bearing his face_ , Killian thought.

“Where?” Emma asked.  “And why should he give us the information we need?”

Killian felt warm at Emma’s use of ‘us’ and ‘we,’ even though he knew she might just be referring to herself and her first mate.

“The lad owes me, and ‘ee ‘arbors no great love for ‘is former employer,” Price said.  “If ye give ‘im a letter from me, and a little… incentive, I’m sure ‘ee’ll comply ready enough.”  
“You’re just trying to extort more money from us,” Ruby growled.

Price glowered at the brunette.  

“I been thinkin’ since last night about this situation,  _girl_ ,” Price said to Ruby.  He curled his lips back in a little sneer before turning to face Emma with a more serious expression.  “Ye keep wot’s in tha’ satchel.  Give somethin’ near half the value to Tim.  Affer all is done, maybe ye’ll come see me again and we can renegotiate.”

Emma studied the former captain for a moment.

“Why the change of heart?” she said calmly.  

Price grimaced at the table for a moment.

“I guess you ‘aven’t ‘eard wot he did last night, then,” he said with distaste curling his features.

“No,” Emma said in a low voice.  What did he do?”

Price just shook his head.

“I won’t speak of it,” he said in a whisper,  “But ‘ere’s me nephew’s particulars.”

He slid a sealed letter across the table to Emma.  Emma picked it up and slipped it into her jacket, leaving the seal unbroken.

“Captain Price—” Emma said, rising to her feet.  Killian hastened to stand, offering Emma his support.

“Don’t thank me, lass,” Price said, looking away.  “Just… see to it th’mongrel’s put down, aye?”

Emma nodded.

“Off with ye, then,” Price said, refilling his wine goblet.  

Ruby stood and and walked around the table, and Killian helped Emma shuffle out of the private dining room.  In the great room, Killian scanned the corners out of habit and saw the hunter from the night before.  The other man noticed Killian and hastened to the exit.

Killian inhaled sharply, his spine going stiff.  He didn’t believe in coincidences.

“What is it?” Emma whispered, recognizing Killian’s sudden change in demeanor.  

“The hunter,” Killian murmured.  “He’s just slipped out the door.  I’m going after him.”

Emma frowned, but nodded.

“Be careful,” Emma said before she released him.

Killian gave her a little nod and stood quickly.  He strode purposefully to the door and out into the street.  He caught sight of the man quickly walking away.  Killian jogged after him.  The hunter didn’t make any indication that he knew he was being followed, but he walked with the purpose of a man who knew he was in a town of thieves.  Killian pursued him, trying to keep a reasonable distance, until the man disappeared into an alley.  Suspecting treachery, Killian drew his sword as he turned the corner into the narrow, shadowy lane.  The hunter was standing at the far end, facing Killian, with his arms casually crossed over his chest.

“What do you want?” Killian demanded, brandishing his cutlass.

The hunter smirked, but raised his hands to show he was unarmed.

“I have no quarrel with you,  _Lieutenant_ ,” he said in a quiet, lilting voice.  “I am solely interested in the princess.”

Killian’s hackles rose and he felt a finger of ice trace down his spine.  He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter and narrowed his eyes.

“Why?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Ah, so you do know,” the hunter said in a conversational tone.  “We should be on the same side, then…  I’ve come to take her home.”

Killian let the words sink in.  The man’s almost friendly tone was disconcerting.  Killian couldn’t help but wonder how long the man had been tracking Emma, but he felt there were more important questions to be asked.

“What if she doesn’t wish to return home?” Killian said bluntly.

“I’m not sure that’s a decision entirely up to her,” the hunter replied softly.  

Killian frowned at the hunter.  Something about the man was strangely familiar, but he was staying mostly in the shadows.  Killian couldn’t quite place why he thought he knew the man.

“Who are you?” Killian asked, lowering his blade slightly.

“Not your enemy, I think,” the man replied in a measured, thoughtful tone.

“That would be easier to decide if I knew who you were,” Killian said warily.  The hunter’s congeniality was off-putting.   

“Fair enough,” the hunter said, stepping forward into the sunlight.  

He was dressed mostly in black, which seemed quite common in Tortuga.  His curly, light brown hair fell in a tangled mop about his ears and forehead.  He wore a layer of scruff thicker than Killian’s, and his eyes were nearly the same shade of blue.  Killian still couldn’t place the man, but the familiarity was stronger.  He’d definitely seen the man before, if not met him.  

“Humbert,” the hunter said, extending his hand with a warm smile.  “I’m afraid I already know your name, Jones.”

The name didn’t ring any bells, but Killian sheathed his sword and took the offered hand and shook it.

“I won’t help you take her back,” Killian said, willing to be civil but not to back down.

“Not today,” Humbert replied gently.  “But eventually you will.”

Killian cocked an eyebrow, but Humbert just gave him a little smile.  Killian let go of the his hand and took a step back.  Without another word, the hunter calmly walked out of the alley, patting Killian on the shoulder as he passed him.  

Killian watched the man leave, puzzled by his strange behavior.  He knew only one thing for certain:  He’d be seeing the man again.  


End file.
